The Wrong Husband
by L. Century
Summary: Csatari always wanted Farkas. After a night of celebrating her new title as Harbinger, she finds a naked Vilkas in her bed and a wedding ring on her finger. As she tries to figure out just what happened and what to do next, Alduin awaits.
1. Chapter 1

Regrets collect like old friends  
>Here to relive your darkest moments<br>I can see no way, I can see no way  
>And all of the ghouls come out to play<p>

And every demon wants his pound of flesh  
>But I like to keep some things to myself<br>I like to keep my issues strong  
>It's always darkest before the dawn<br>~Florence and the Machine- Shake it Out

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Csatari walked briskly from Jorrvask to the Bannered Mare. The Companions wanted to drink in celebration of her new title, Harbinger, but she knew most would get wasted to forget the loss of Kodlak. She owed her shield-siblings the honor, so with a resounding sigh she agreed. Csatari didn't want to be Harbinger and frankly didn't think she had the time due to the whole dragon slaying business. But, Kodlak's decision was respected and they all accepted her, so here she was against her better judgment.

She let out a long breath in the chilly winter air and watched the puff of smoke appear in amusement.

_Ha. I really am a dragon_.

"Are you chilly?" Farkas bent over and asked as they walked, and she shook her head in response. He flashed a grin in response before continuing on. She forced herself to ignore the way his smiles made her feel or the way the moon lit up his face and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other to avoid falling over.

She ran her hand through her Mohawk- a nervous habit. The last band of mercenaries she had worked for had insisted on the hairstyle as their identifying mark. A full belly had seemed more important than her hairstyle at the time, so she allowed her shoulder length blonde tresses to be shaved off. After only three months, however, the leader's brother decided to revolt and as the group wound up fighting each other, Csatari barely made it out alive.

She wondered why now she still kept the hair style. She supposed after all that had changed in the last year, the haircut existed from her pre-Dragonborn days, so she wasn't willing to part with it. She had little else to remind her of those days as it was. Whether that was a blessing or a curse, she hadn't decided yet.

Csatari grew up in Riften's orphanage before being kicked out at thirteen. Whether she had brothers or sisters she didn't know, and the woman who ran that dump never provided any answers to her questions. Not that she really cared, Csatari never felt any desire to go searching for her past. She had no desire to find out where she came from and what happened to her family- whether they died or simply decided they had one too many mouths to feed. She unlike the other children at the orphanage held no illusions that someone out there loved her. She knew they didn't.

She took up odd jobs for years, whenever she could find work- at stables, farms, as a courier. You name it, Csatari did it. When she was seventeen, she met her first mercenary band. The leader was a patient man with grey streaking his hair. He taught her how to hold a sword and how to use it effectively. Eventually, he showed her other areas of life that she was missing out on. After three years his lover, Bulmond was killed during a contract and she was forced to move on.

From there she had a string of bad luck with mercenary bands. Csatari never stayed in a group longer than six months due to either the leader dying or a power struggle occurring. She had been bleeding and limping, barely escaping the last mercenary band's uprising when she laid down to rest under a tree. She closed her eyes for a moment, waking up in a cart full of Stormcloak rebels.

Talk about a case of being at the wrong place at the wrong time…

After escaping Helgen and being given aide in Riverwood, Csatari had set on for Whiterun. She had literally stumbled across Farkas, nearly running into him as he was returning to the city from slaying a giant, troll,whatever...

He had smiled warmly, telling her she should come to Jorrvaskr and be a Companion. There was no accusation in his tone or any comments about her worthlessness. His smile was so genuine; it made her feel as though she was basking in the sun's rays. It had warmed her to her toes.

She had planned on heading to Jorrvaskr immediately after speaking to the Jarl. Reality didn't go as planned, and she wound up traipsing through an ancient ruin, hunting down a dragon, then answering a summons. After speaking to the Grey Beards and realizing she was Dragonborn, she decided heading to the Companions was a wise move.

She was a decent fighter, but not skilled enough to continue hunting down dragons. She needed hot meals, a warm bed, but most of all training from the strongest warriors in Skyrim. So, Csatari found herself trudging up the ancient steps of Jorrvaskr without any expectations.

The training was brutal. She vomited a week straight from all the hits to her stomach. When Csatari wasn't puking, she was bleeding or bruising. Farkas came to her every night offering words of encouragement. Some nights when she was too bruised to sit without pain or in too sour of a mood to speak, he would simply hand her a tankard of ale. He made it all bearable.

The men in the Companions had no problem finding women, and Csatari had seen her share of wenches traipse in and out of the building. After her first two months, Aela had teased Farkas about his sudden decline in affairs. He had shrugged it off, but Csatari didn't dare think it was because of her. If the training or Alduin didn't kill her, hope would finish her off quickly.

Besides, she had no reason to think he _was_ interested in her. He never flirted with her, never treated her any differently than he had any of the other Companions. Csatari had seen some of the women coming from his room- all tall, beautiful, and scarless- something she was not. Farkas treated her as a friend and that was good enough for her.

She was friends with all the Companions, except Vilkas. He had seemed to take an instant disliking and had never warmed up to her. He liked to frequently bring up her incarceration at Helgen. She would always lose her temper and shout that sleeping under a tree was not an executable offense…no matter what the Imperials said. Her temper would boil, walking away before punching him, but the next week it would start again. So, she avoided him like a plague.

"Here you go," Farkas said, opening the door to the tavern for her.

Csatari mumbled her thanks before stepping in, the rest of the Companions filing in after her. They sat down at the largest table in the establishment. As the rounds of drinks were being ordered, Mikael began playing another song. The tavern was exceptionally busy tonight, a cacophony of sounds from various conversations taking place.

Csatari's stomach rumbled from the smell of venison cooking on the spit, as well as the soup being stirred. She added food to the order of drinks and watched as Carlotta's daughter danced with Saadri to the song being played. The owner of the inn seemed pleased with tonight's turnout as she wiped down the bar's countertop.

Two of the Whiterun guards came over to pay their respects for Kodlak. "Harbinger," they said, bowing in respect to her new position.

"Er, right," she said, nodding back. The title of Harbinger was going to take some getting used to. She hadn't even accepted being the Thane of Whiterun, and secretly loved when people didn't recognize her. She would always smile when guards shouted at her to remain lawful.

It felt _normal._

As the guards took their leave, Csatari turned to see Vilkas glaring at her. She looked away, as the bowl of soup was placed before her.

"We're going to have a great night, "Farkas said, sitting next to her.

"Sure," she agreed before digging into her soup. As long as he was next to her, she had no desire to ever leave.

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A/N: After googling Farkas and Vilkas' names, I found out they are both Hungarian for wolf.

Csatari according to google translator is Hungarian for warrior.

Thanks in advance for reading!

Reviews= love


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Spoilers Warning! My Sanguine quest was bugged, so I'm going to take a few small liberties with it. I also apologize for the formatting; FF is being stupid again lately.**

**Thanks for all of the reviews, alerts, and favorites. It makes my day. **

**Reviews= love.**

**Thanks in advance for reading!**

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And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't  
>So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road<br>And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope  
>It's a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat<br>Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me  
>Looking for heaven, found the devil in me.<p>

~Florence and the Machine- Shake it Out

0000000000000000000000…..

Csatari was deep into her fifth tankard of ale. An arm wrestling match was taking place on the opposite end of her table between Njada and Athis.

_Just sleep with each other and get it over with! _Csatari thought, smiling to herself.

As she glanced around the table, she realized there were quite a few people present in love. Ria was in love with Aela, who didn't seem to care. Skjor had been in love with Njada, who didn't seem to realize his affection before he died. Athis and Njada, however, had this sexual tension forever simmering just below the surface. They never acted on their impulses; just beat each other senseless weekly.

_Maybe it's their foreplay_ she thought ruefully.

Torvar was in love with anyone who didn't smack him after he spoke, which frankly speaking, boiled down to deaf people and prostitutes.

Csatari turned her gaze to Vilkas who as glaring at her _again._ Vilkas seemed like the type of man incapable of loving anyone. The man was like fire and ice. If he wasn't screaming at you, then he acted emotionless. Sometimes the glares Vilkas gave made Csatari's blood run cold. You were either ducking from the fireballs he was hurling, or escaping the ice storm in search of warmer climate.

And then there was Farkas, the man who accepted everyone unconditionally. The man who she was in love with.

Csatari let out another sigh before taking another sip.

The arm wrestling match concluded with Njada slamming Athis' hand down onto the table. The group erupted in cheers for the victor, and Csatari joined in the clapping, a few seconds too late. Athis looked in her direction, displeased by his loss.

"You know, I always imagined the new Harbinger to be a bit taller myself," he said.

Csatari snorted before saying, "Well, if you need me taller, I can always sit on Farkas' shoulders."

It was the alcohol talking, because she would have never said that without the liquid encouragement. But, the mental image ran through her mind of being on Farkas' strong shoulders, his head so close to her…

She blushed, embarrassed at the thought.

The group had gone deadly silent, and as she looked up, every member was frozen in some form of shock.

_Oh, shit._

It was Farkas who began laughing first, nearly a roar, causing her to jump in her seat. The rest joined in, laughing loudly.

"I think that's the first joke she's ever said," Ria commented, causing Csatari to blush.

Csatari looked up to see Athis smiling, glancing appraisingly in her direction.

"Good one," Farkas said, elbowing Csatari, nearly causing her to fall off her chair, her empty tankard flying in the air.

She straightened herself back in her chair, rubbing her now sore side, mumbling thanks.

As the laughing died down, Vilkas stated in that emotionless tone he occasionally used, "Now that you are Harbinger, you need to acquire new armor. It's an embarrassment to us having you look like…"

Her blood was boiling as she stood up, glaring murderously at him.

_Come on, finish that sentence. I would love nothing more than to beat you bloody and use alcohol as an excuse._

Vilkas looked as though he was about to say something else, but amended his thought.

"…a fledgling."

It was enough of an insult for Csatari, however. She was sick of the glares all night long, the weekly insults, and she was emboldened by her liquid courage. She took one determined step towards him ready to bash his skull in.

A moment of clarity came, however, and she realized that Vilkas was the kind of asshole that after she knocked him out, would call the guards for her arrest. As she sat in a jail cell rotting, he'd be convincing the Companions that she had just proved her unworthiness of being called Harbinger.

Csatari knew she wasn't the brightest person, but she did know that if she needed to become the best warrior, she needed to surround herself with the best. She needed the Companions to help her figure out what she was supposed to do next. Her training wasn't complete, not by a long shot, and if the Grey Beards were going to insist on this whole Dragonborn nonsense…

Besides, punching Vilkas wasn't going to do her any favors towards Farkas. The two might be complete opposites, but they were still twins. Farkas was who mattered, so she steadied herself.

She let out a long breath, releasing some of her building steam, her hands still balled into tight fists. She looked at the other Companions, saying, "I need to get another drink."

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group as Csatari turned away, trying not to run towards the bar and away from that infuriating man.

"Man, for a second there, I _swore_ she was gonna hit him. That would have been some fight!" Torvar said.

"Brother, was that really necessary?" Csatari heard Farkas say.

Csatari pretended not to listen as she ordered a drink from the owner. She became suddenly aware of someone eyeing her up at the bar, and she turned in his direction. The man had chin length chocolate colored hair and same colored eyes hitting his early thirties. He was in black robes, and his physique told Csatari that he was no warrior.

"Hey," he said, his words drawn out in a drunken slur, "my name's Sam Guevenne. How about a drinking contest?"

As she was about to say no, she felt a presence near her. She looked up to see Farkas standing next to her, smiling apologetically.

The Sam fellow regained her attention by saying, "If you win, I'll give you this very powerful staff."

As Csatari heard the words powerful, she heard the words expensive. The only magic Csatari used was healing magic, because it had made her useful. Finding healers was difficult, and it kept her protected and fed for years. In a world where replacing killed recruits became troublesome and costly, many mercenary leaders saw Csatari as a solution.

She looked at the staff in his hands, and knew she could easily sell it for a thousand septims. It wasn't the kind of money she could pass up, and thanks to Vilkas, she now had a gnawing worry that perhaps it was time for new armor befitting her title. If she was going to commission Eorlund to forge her new wares, it would be costly.

She looked up at Farkas who was eyeing her curiously. "This man wants to have a drinking contest with me. The prize is that staff," she explained.

His eyes lit up, and he asked, "Can I join?"

"Sure!" the man shouted, "The more the merrier!"

Sam handed two tankards to the Companions, saying,"I'll go first."

The man gulped his drink down blindingly fast. Wiping his face with his sleeve, he pointed to Csatari.

"Now you."

As Csatari began drinking her mug, Farkas said, "Excuse me for a moment. I need to relieve myself."

Csatari tried nodding while downing the ale and saw from her peripheral vision Farkas placing his mug down on the table. A moment later, she heard the inn's door closing and knew he had gone outside.

After finishing, she wiped her own mouth on her sleeve, sensing a new presence near her.

She turned half-way to see Vilkas standing there, Farkas still nowhere in sight. Csatari placed her empty mug on the counter, crossing her arms to control herself.

"Listen, I-" Vilkas started, before asking, "Are you having a drinking contest?"

"Yes," she answered, her body tense, refusing eye contact.

"Whose mug is this?" he asked.

She turned her head fractionally, trying not to look at him, afraid she'd lose her cool again.

"Your brother's," she replied.

Glancing sideways, she watched Vilkas sniffing the liquid before taking a sip.

She looked up to see Sam refilling both mugs before downing his next glass.

"Alright, your turn," he said look at her again.

She took her newly filled glass from the man and began her second round.

_Here goes nothing._

…..

_Five days later…_

"Get up!" a woman's voice shouted, shoving Csatari roughly.

Csatari opened her eyes to see a woman glaring daggers at her wearing priestess robes.

_Uh oh._


	3. Chapter 3

You gotta help me out  
>It's all a blur last night<br>Spare me your freakin' dirty looks  
>Now don't blame me<br>Why are these lights so bright?  
>Oh, did we get hitched last night?<br>You got me into this  
>Information overload, situation lost control<br>Send out an S.O.S.  
>~Katy Perry- Waking up in Vegas<p>

….

It was instinct to wrap her fingers around her sword's pommel. Csatari's eyes quickly darted around the room looking for danger. All she found, however, was an irate priestess and statues of Dibella.

Csatari stood up from the cold, unforgiving, stone ground only to let out a loud groan. She couldn't remember the last time she was in _this_ much pain. Training had been nothing compared to this.

The room was slightly spinning, the colors blurred, bleeding together, causing her physical pain to view.

Her thigh and stomach muscles were aching; her body protesting loudly at her insistence on standing.

Her nipples and lips were sore, her neck felt bruised, and her lower region felt stretched. She remembered the sensation, thought it had been many years since; it was the way she felt after her first sexual experience.

"Get up, you drunken blasphemer!" the woman shouted, her eyes taking in Csatari's appearance. The disgruntled look let Csatari know the woman found her wanting.

"Uh, my head," Csatari groaned out, realizing that trying to think or speak caused the room to spin faster. "Where am I?"

"You don't know where you are? So, I suppose you don't remember coming in here drunk trashing the temple."

Csatari let out a relieved sigh. Yes, trashing a temple and angering a Divine was bad, but much better than _transforming._ She shuttered to think what would have happened if she had become a werewolf.

"No, I'm sorry. It's all a blur," Csatari said, shaking her head.

_Bad move. _

The movement of her head nearly caused Csatari to vomit on the priestess.

The woman was still standing there, glaring at her. Csatari found herself wanting to ask if the woman was related to Vilkas, the two holding the same contemptible stares, but thought better.

Csatari ran her hand through her hair, only to find it caught. Carefully untangling her tresses, she found herself staring at a gold band on her finger.

_What the?_

The woman cleared her throat staring at her. Csatari had enough of this woman's glares, felt like garbage, and knew she just needed to get out of there- wherever _there_ happened to be.

She looked the woman in the eyes, while saying, "You have my sincerest apologies for the disruption I caused. I wish to make reparations, and then be on my way."

The woman taken aback by Csatari's apology, recovered quickly. "Well, Dibella does teach forgiveness, even for drunks like you. 350 septims will cover the damage."

Csatari's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. What did she do, punch holes in the walls?

_Just pay the money and get out of here._

She nodded her head, fighting against the wave of nausea. She didn't want to know how much the vomit clean-up would cost her. While Csatari counted out the coins on a stone table next to a Dibella statue, the woman fluttered around the temple. Csatari frowned while rifling through her coin purse; it seemed significantly lighter than last she remembered. When the coins were all there, the woman turned to Csatari handing her a bag of items and a note.

"You brought these in with you saying you needed them to repair a staff," the woman said.

Csatari vaguely remembered thoughts about a staff and a drinking game, but it was all a hazy fog.

"Thanks," Csatari said before heading for the door.

"Why were you drinking?" the woman asked, the anger no longer in her voice.

Funny, after paying the woman gold she suddenly grew a conscience. Typical.

Csatari wasn't sure what to say. _I was in a drinking game to win a staff? _

It sounded ridiculous, even to her. Images flashed in her mind of being in the Bannered Mare wanting to punch Vilkas, deciding to walk away from him.

"I was drinking to forget about a man," Csatari said, which wasn't a complete lie. She had walked away and bought another drink to cool down and forget him.

The woman's gaze turned soft as she looked down at Csatari's hand. Csatari followed the woman's gaze to that gold band on her finger.

"Dibella is the goddess of forgiveness. Perhaps you should work on forgiving him rather than drinking to forget him," the woman said.

Csatari wanted to snort and say, "You haven't met him."

But her stomach flipped, and she felt a new wave of nausea. She just wanted fresh air.

"Er, right. Thanks." Csatari opened the door and seeing the stone buildings around her knew she was in Markarth.

She searched her pockets for a health potion, anything to cure the hangover. Her pockets were devoid of anything save a silver key. Not able to process where it came from, Csatari knew Markarth had an inn. She knew she was incapable of anything else presently. After a night of sleeping, she could figure everything out.

Trudging into the Silver-blood Inn, Csatari winced at the sound from the music playing and the bustling commotion.

She walked up to a man behind the counter. He had greasy silver hair, a bulbous nose, and was easily in his forties. His eyes told her just how much he regretted his life as an inn keeper looking at everything with disdain.

"May I rent a room?" she asked, realizing her voice was a whisper, incapable of speaking louder.

The man looked irritated, staring quizzically. "Why would you need _another _room?"

She instantly pulled out the key in her pocket. "Is this my room key?" she asked.

The man opened his mouth, and she knew a slew of insults was about to pour out. A pretty blonde Nord in her late thirties rushed to Csatari's side.

_Woah, lady, please don't move so fast._

"Please excuse my husband, Csatari. He forgets his manners. How can I assist you?" the woman said smiling widely, attempting to be accommodating.

The woman knew her name and wasn't trying to kill her. This looked promising.

"Is this the key to my room?" she asked.

The woman kept an air of professionalism, revealing no emotion about Csatari's question.

"Yes, your room is there," she said, pointing towards a door. "I believe your husband is still sleeping inside."

"My what!" Csatari shrieked, instantly regretting the decision, her hand flying to her forehead in hopes of stopping the pounding in her head.

She pulled herself to the door, fumbling with the key. After dropping it twice, she finally slipped it into the keyhole, listening to the door unlock.

Opening the door, Csatari stood there in complete and utter shock.

_This can't be happening._

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**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, subscribed, and favorited. It really makes my day=) **

**Reviews=love.**

**Thanks to everyone for reading!**

**To AerieHawke, **

**Thanks for taking a chance on this story. Sanguine will make an appearance. I promise. I don't know how to fit the Wabbajack into this story, but if I can make it work, I will. FYI, four chapters of my DA stories are currently with my betas, so there **will** be updates soon.**


	4. Chapter 4

There's a stranger in my bed,  
>There's a pounding in my head<br>This a hickie or a bruise  
>Last Friday night<br>Yeah, we danced on tabletops  
>And we took too many shots<br>Think we kissed but I forgot  
>Last Friday night<br>We went streaking in the park  
>Skinny dipping in the dark<br>Then had a ménage à trois  
>Last Friday night<br>~Katy Perry –TGIF

….

Csatari was unable to look away even if she had wanted to. Vilkas lay strewn out on the bed naked. His hands resting above his head, his face not holding his usual frown lines or angry eyes as he lay there sleeping. He looked so…peaceful.

_Beautiful._

Her eyes followed down the lines of his body staring in appreciation. He looked as though he had been carved by the Divines themselves. She was mesmerized by his facial stubble following down to a cluster of bruises on his neck, down the sleek lines of his pectoral muscles to the smattering of dark black hair painted on his chest, trailing down…

The blanket covering his lower region prevented her from continuing.

Csatari swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.

A thought flashed through her mind that if Vilkas looked like this naked, Farkas would as well.

_Snap back to reality! _

Realizing the door was still open, she closed it gently not wanting to wake him, or deal with the coming situation.

She tiptoed over to the bed, unsure what to do next, her breathing still embarrassingly loud staring at his naked form.

One eye popped open, as a smile spread across his face. Too shocked, she stood there, as he grabbed her, hooking his arm around her waist, bringing her down on the bed.

She lay there frozen as he wrapped his arm around her body, his head resting on her breast, his leg carelessly thrown over hers, his desire now firmly pressing against her thigh.

"Morning, love, you've been gone a while; I was hoping you'd come back soon," he gently murmured into her chest.

Her entire body tensed, breathing rapidly as she felt him place a soft kiss at the base of her throat, his stubble scratching her skin.

Panic set in, and she screamed, "Get off me, Vilkas!"

He looked up alarmed as she repeated, "Get off me!"

Vilkas jumped up quickly standing there completely naked, owning the room with his hands on his hips, his manhood now in her direct line of sight.

"Vilkas, can you please get dressed now?" she asked, covering her eyes with her hand. He began fumbling for clothes on the floor, as she peeped through her fingers…to see his progress, of course.

Dressed in simple cotton pants and shirt, his clothing did nothing to hide what lie beneath.

"Are you ill?" he asked, looking completely perplexed.

"Yes, I am very, very ill!" she shouted.

_Oh, gods, I'm gonna be sick._

Csatari barely made it to the bucket in the corner of the room. She could feel his hand now rubbing her back as she was bent over the basin. She wanted to shout for him to get away, but couldn't as she continued heaving.

Finishing, she wiped her mouth disgusted and horrified to find him offering a tankard of water. Taking it, she gulped it down not realizing just how thirsty she was.

As his eyes still warily watching her, he took the glass back, refilling it from a pitcher of water on the nightstand.

She accepted the glass, placing it down on the stone table when finished.

She had no idea what to say or do next, although she desperately wanted to ask what was going on.

"Why don't you lie down?" he offered.

Yes, she would lie down, wake up, and this strange dream would be all over with.

Csatari walked over to the bed, lying down as Vilkas drew the covers up to her shoulders.

…..

She woke up feeling marginally better, though her stomach was still sour. She sat up, looking around the room. Vilkas sat in a chair across the room fully armored, glaring at her.

The fact that he was still there was a shock, although the stormy gaze somehow made things feel normal again- it felt appropriate for their relationship.

"Hey," she said, not sure what the right thing to say was.

"Do you feel better?" he asked, his eye still intently staring.

Not trusting her voice to squeak she nodded.

"I'll have the inn keeper's wife bring you water for a bath and some food," he said before standing up abruptly and walking out the door.

She was confused by his behavior and why he didn't seem freaked out by the situation as she was.

Standing up, she rifled through a bag near the bed and after finding a health potion inside, drank the entire content. She started to feel better immediately, although the soreness she realized would take a few more days to go away.

The inn keeper's wife who Csatari recognized immediately as the helpful lady from before walked in with a large bucket of warm water.

"I'll give you some time before I bring in the meal," she said.

"Is Vilkas…I mean my husband outside?" Csatari asked, wondering if Vilkas had left for Jorrvaskr.

"Ahuh," the woman said, "he's at the bar."

She nodded, thanking the woman, waiting for the door to close. Once the woman was gone, Csatari disrobed, taking off the yellow colored dress she was wearing.

_Strange_, _I can't remember the last time I wore a dress._

She cleaned herself thoroughly getting all the sweat, alcohol, and vomit off. She rummaged through the bag and found a plain cotton shirt, pants, and undergarments. Placing them on, she eyed her armor in the corner. Looking at it, however, it suddenly dawned on her what Vilkas had meant. She had never realized just how sad her iron armor looked. She made a mental note that once she returned to Whiterun, she'd remedy the situation.

Fully dressed, she stepped outside and the woman came over. She eyed Vilkas at the bar with a tankard in his hand.

"May I eat at the bar with Vilkas?" Csatari asked, not wanting to continue with the charade of calling him her husband.

"Of course!" the woman boomed, clasping her hands together. "I'll be right back with that meal."

Csatari walked over to the bar and sat down on the stool next to Vilkas noting that the tavern was particularly quiet.

She glanced at his hand realizing he was wearing a gold band as well.

"Vilkas, what happened? Why are we wearing wedding bands, and why do I feel as though I've just had sex for days?" she asked in a near whisper not wanting eavesdroppers to hear.

He glanced in her direction, his eyes looking her over, and although she wanted to internally cringe, she wanted the answers more.

"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked.

"I remember being in the Bannered Mare wanting to punch you because you were being rude. I walked away and began a drinking contest with a man at the bar. The next thing I remember I was waking up in the Temple of Dibella being shoved by a priestess. I came here to the inn, they told me I had a room here, and then I found you in bed _naked_."

She watched his face intently, shocked to watch hurt flitter across his face before he answered, "My memory is nearly as fuzzy as yours."

She let out a sigh of relief. "After I eat, we should head to Riften. If we got married, there's only one place we could have gone. Maybe the priests there could explain how this happened."

Vilkas nodded in a placating gesture.

"Don't worry, we'll figure this mess out," Csatari said reassuringly.

He took another sip of his drink without answering her.

…..

**A/N: Sooo, who saw this chapter coming, huh? LOL **

**Thanks to everyone for the reviews, the favorites, and the subscriptions. **

**They make my day=)**

**Reviews= love.**


	5. Chapter 5

If there was a question about my intentions,  
>I'll tell ya<br>I'm not here to sell ya  
>Or tell you to go to hell<br>I can't be tamed  
>I can't be blamed<br>I can't be changed  
>Well I'm not a trick you play,<br>I'm wired a different way  
>I'm not a mistake,<br>I'm not a fake,  
>It's set in my DNA<br>Don't change me  
>Baby, by now you should know<p>

I can't be tamed.

~Miley Cyrus- Can't be Tamed

00000….

After reading Kodlak's journal, Csatari knew Vilkas had given up transforming until they found a cure for the Circle's lycanthropy. She also knew that out of Kodlak and the twins, it was Vilkas who had the most trouble stopping. It was a struggle for him to remain in human form, to not hunt by the moonlight. After curing Kodlak of his bestial nature, securing his place in Sovngarde, Csatari knew she could cure herself as well. She left Ysgramor's tomb, however, still a werewolf. Perhaps in the future, she would remain only a human, but for now, she had the distinct feeling that there was more left for her to do. Angrier's words haunted her that the reappearance of dragons _and_ a Dragonborn was not coincidental, that their destinies were intertwined. It left Csatari with a sense of unease, a foreboding feeling that something _huge_ and inescapable was moments away from occurring.

Csatari had been mediocre at everything in life, except in one respect. She had always been exceptional at surviving. Her instincts were always right for when it was time to fight, and when it was time to run. It had kept her alive thus far when most in her position would have died years ago. She knew that whatever was coming, she wanted all the advantages she could have. The beast blood held many advantages, making Csatari in many ways an ultimate predator. She could not throw away such an asset until she was sure she no longer had need of it. Csatari knew from Kodlak's notes that the cure was permanent. There would be no going back. So, until she was sure that she could rid herself of the disease, she fought to control it, to master it.

As far as Vilkas was concerned, the subject was a grey matter. She did not believe he had changed again since his promise to Kodlak, yet he had not asked her to aide him in curing himself. What his hold up was, she didn't know. She did not discuss the matter with Aela, Farkas, and Vilkas- she felt it to be an intensely personal matter. As Harbinger, she would be there to speak of it, if they came to her. She would not press the matter, however.

Because of this, Csatari did not ask Vilkas if he wanted to change and run across the width of Skyrim to Riften. She knew for a fact that they would have arrived there faster than by carriage. Because she was unaware of his feelings on the matter, she did not want to offer the idea, tempting him, only to have him blame her later.

When they left the stony gates of Markarth behind, she walked over to the carriage owner parked outside the stables, asking to hire him. Vilkas remained silent at her side, not suggesting a run either. It was an uncomfortable silence, but Csatari hoped he understood that she supported him in whatever he decided to do. She supported all of the Circle members.

Sitting in the carriage, Csatari tried to enjoy the beauty of Skyrim traveling from Markarth to Riften. Her thoughts were in such a snarl that forcing herself to stare at the setting sun, green pastures, and babbling brooks was helping to calm her disquieted mind. Well, her options were either to try and enjoy the scenery, or enter a glaring contest with Vilkas for the entire ride.

She turned her head, captivated by a herd of deer grazing. Her mouth had begun salivating, and she realized it must have been many nights since her last transformation into a werewolf. The pain in her neck, however, caused her attention to be shifted from the hunt's call. She wondered why it was so sore and rummaged through the knapsack at her feet for her mirror. She supposed it couldn't really be called a mirror. It was a shattered piece of glass she had found months back, and had kept since. It was jagged around the edges, but never broke in her bag, and was always easy to locate when needed. She supposed the mirror was just like her- broken, rough around the edges, reliable, very useful.

Csatari grimaced at the woman staring back at her. Her lips were puffed, her face a little bloated.

_Damn alcohol._

The rest of her face seemed the same, her eyes the same blue, a light splash of freckles still ran across her nose and cheeks, the same scar ran parallel above her left eyebrow. Csatari noted that the shaved parts of her Mohawk had grown in, blonde fuzz now covering her head. She moved the mirror down so she could look at her neck and the source of her soreness. She could feel her mouth pop open as she found a large hickey on her neck. It was as though some animal had been ravaging her neck, and then she blushed, realizing perhaps one had. Csatari refused to walk around looking that way, so she placed her palm on her neck, closed her eyes, and quietly chanted the healing spell. Feeling the warm energy flow through her, she stopped when the soreness subsided. Checking in the mirror again, she saw the mark was gone.

"Why do you keep that broken piece of glass? Do you not own a proper mirror?" Vilkas barked from the other side of the carriage.

She shrugged. "I use it because it has served me well."

"Well, you'll be useless to the Companions when your hand is cut up from those edges and you can't hold a sword."

She shouldn't have been surprised; it would have been impossible for Vilkas to have gone the entire carriage ride without insulting her. Her mind was stuck on the word useless, and she became naturally defensive, taking the comment personally.

"I have used it for months without a single incident. The mirror is fine," she bristled.

As she could tell he was about to say something, she heard rustling near the bushes alongside the road.

She held her hand up to silence Vilkas from talking, realizing it was bandits intent on robbing the carriage.

"Pull over," she told the carriage owner. The driver turned towards her, "Do you need a break?" he asked.

"Pull over!" she repeated.

She knew Vilkas had sensed the group as well, picking his sword up from resting across the carriage.

As the carriage slowed to a halt, she told the driver to stay put. Jumping off the back, Csatari stalked towards the noise.

Five burly men jumped out, all wearing studded armor, four Nords, one an Orc, all reeking of alcohol, desperation, and body odor.

"Well, aren't you a pleasant surprise?" the man in the middle said, his one good eye sweeping over her body appraisingly. "You'll be fun for later."

Csatari snorted. "Walk away now, and you'll live to see another day."

The man laughed. "And what are you going to do, little missy?"

She stood there, sensing Vilkas at her side, weapon ready. She frankly wasn't in the mood for a fight. She wanted answers to her questions and this was a distraction from her goal. Csatari knew that if she showed up to the Temple of Love covered head to toe in human blood, she most likely would be turned away. It was a pity, though. She wanted nothing more than to teach these animals a lesson.

Night time no longer affected her vision as it had before. The beast blood cured her of that problem and she could see the marauder in front of her as clearly as she would have in day light. Unsheathing a dagger from her belt, she threw it, knowing it would land in the man's skull. With widened eyes, and a gasp, he fell to the ground from her dagger lodged squarely in his forehead.

The other four, now confused by their leader's death began glancing sideways, unsure what to do.

Csatari drew her sword, smiling wolfishly. "Leave now, or after I kill you, I'll violate your corpses in any way I please."

Their eyes widened at her words and they all began sheathing their swords, turning, and running. Csatari smiled as she watched the wolves morph into sheep, making their way for the tree line.

She sheathed her sword, steadying her breathing, forcing the bloodlust screaming in her veins to calm- the intense need to track down those men and rip them to pieces, feasting on their insides. The desire was so visceral, so primal, it screamed from every fiber of her being to kill them and spare the world from their continued existence. She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing, willing herself to calm. She controlled the werewolf; the beast did not control her. She understood just how easy it was for werewolves to lose themselves, to become nothing but animal. It would not be her, however.

_One more dead, Bulmond. Did you enjoy that one?_

Feeling in control, she walked over to the dead bandit, relieving his corpse of all valuables, trying to keep her hands and mind busy.

On the nights that Csatari didn't change, staying in her human or "true" form, her sexual desires were magnified. Why that was, she didn't know. She had never asked Aela before, the only other female werewolf she knew; afraid that perhaps it was just her. Csatari also did not satiate the hunger; satisfy her desires for the same reason. She was in control of the animal; her will was stronger than her body's siren call. She would not simply lie with a man for satisfaction of the flesh- it needed to be more.

It was difficult, she wouldn't lie. If her inner beast wasn't screaming for carnage, than her human body was screaming for satisfaction. But, she would prevail for as long as she needed the beast blood advantage.

She knew Vilkas could sense her struggle, most likely smell her arousal. "Let's get back to the carriage. We have a while to go still."

Csatari nodded, thankful that he did not bring the subject up, giving her a modicum of respect.

She walked back to the carriage, finding the driver frightened. His hands shook so violently, he was barely holding on to the reins. She wondered if leaving a now dead naked man on the side of the road was a wrong move. Curiously, she had never considered it before.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Who are you?" he asked, his hands still shaking.

"Oh, me? I'm Csatari, Harbinger of the Companions. My companion is Vilkas, a high ranked member."

She didn't feel the need to get into the fact that he _may_ be her husband, and that this trip wasn't related to business. The man seemed frazzled enough, no need to bog him down with details.

"You're Kodlak's replacement," he said, his lower lip slightly quivering, and she realized with astonishment that the man seemed frightened of her.

_How odd._

"Er, yes, I am." She handed the bottle of wine taken from the corpse to the driver. The last thing Csatari needed now was booze.

"For your nerves." She smiled, hoping to calm him. "Just don't steer the horse into a tree."

He laughed at that, taking the bottle from her, thanking her.

"In that case, it is an honor to meet you Harbinger, and your companion. You will always be welcome to ride in my carriage."

She wondered what the right response was. What would Kodlak have said?

"The honor is mine."

He instructed her to climb back on the carriage, so they could depart. The palomino horse was pawing at the ground unfazed by what had just happened, waiting for its next command.

Taking her seat, she found Vilkas already sitting in the same position as before, his legs open, hands clasped together, his arms resting on his thighs, staring at the ground. Csatari placed the bandit's belongings in her sack before sitting down, crossing her legs, forcing her body into a relaxed position in hopes it would calm her mind and blood.

Vilkas was staring at her, not a glare, but his eyes were stormy, boring into hers. Honestly, how did that man live with such forceful emotions and not explode from the intensity? Csatari was sure spending one day inside his mind would be exhausting.

"What?" she snapped.

He seemed puzzled, as though unable to solve a problem. "Nothing, _Harbinger_."

The way he said her title left her confused. It was said with emphasis, but not in a derogatory manner. She did not feel defensive from the tone he used, so it was clear he was not intending to insult her. Yet, she couldn't help but feel there was a meaning behind it, as though there was something obvious she was missing.

"Well then quit staring. It creeps me out when you do that," she replied, only to hear the driver chuckling.

She knew she was missing out on some inside joke, and found it exceptionally frustrating.

Csatari let out a sigh, releasing the tension in her muscles. She closed her eyes when she heard the driver say, "We'll be in Riften by morning."

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A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing, favoriting, and subscribing this story. Thanks to the lurkers as well. I love you too.

Reviews=love.


	6. Chapter 6

You love her, but she loves him,  
>and he loves somebody else -<br>You just can't win.  
>And so it goes until the day you die.<br>This thing they call love,  
>it's gonna make you cry.<p>

I've had the blues, the reds and the pinks.  
>One thing's for sure...<p>

Love stinks

~Adam Sandler- Love Stinks

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Csatari let out a deep breath standing on the steps of Mara's Temple. She wondered if the goddess would have any compassion for her and this whole situation be nothing more than a misunderstanding. She frowned at the idea, however. The gods had never cared about her in the past; there was no reason to think they would now.

Religion had never sat well with Csatari. Praying was for those with time on their hands, not for people like her who had been busy fighting tooth and nail to survive. Giving the Divines their supposed due was a luxury she couldn't afford.

She turned towards Vilkas who was brooding next to her. She forced a smile, saying, "Don't worry. This will just be some error that we'll easily clear up."

He remained silent, staring at her, before giving a quick nod. With his answer, she opened the door to the temple, and stepped inside.

Walking into the chapel, she saw people sitting in the pews, praying to the goddess, a few leaving offerings at her altar. Before her was a large statue representing Mara, arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture to her followers. There was incense being burned somewhere, the smoke causing a haze that filled the room, the pungent odor filling her lungs, causing her eyes to tear. Orange rugs lined the floor between the pews, plants of lavender sat on either side of the statue. Cheery orange bannisters hung from the walls painted with the symbol of Mara…just in case someone forgot where they were after staring at the dozen other symbols of the Divine throughout the temple.

The temple's floor and walls were lined with wood, the entire building decorated and furnished in birch wood, the natural resource most abundant near Riften. It reminded her of the orphanage; the bones of the two buildings were built exactly the same. A distant memory of lying in a too short bed, staring up at the ceiling rose unbidden. She was blocking out the mistress's words of which child would be punished that week by sleeping in the cupboard. Csatari could hear that hag's voice clearly as though she had heard it just yesterday. She shuttered at the memory hoping no one had noticed.

Gods, she hated this wretched city.

Csatari looked around the room, searching for a priest or priestess. She spotted a man dressed in orange robes, the edges of the garment lined with yellow.

"Look who it is, the happy couple!" the man shouted with his hands raised in the air coming for a hug. "It's so wonderful to see you return!"

Csatari stared at the man in shock. Was he crying? She took a step back defensively placing her hands out, stopping the man from coming too close.

"Listen, I don't know who you are. I woke up the other day with a wedding band on next to my _companion_ here. I was wondering if you could help me figure out how this all happened."

The man stood still as a statue not answering. She wondered if coin would loosen his lips.

"I'd be willing to give the temple monetary compensation. The more you could tell me, the more I'd be inclined to donate," she said.

He seemed insulted by the statement, but continued. "What do you wish to know?"

"Everything. Start from the beginning," she replied eagerly.

"Well, the two of you stumbled into the temple screaming at each other."

She stood there confused not expecting the beginning to sound so realistic. Csatari stood with her arms crossed, Vilkas at her side.

"He had insulted you, but I never could understand what the argument was about. Anyways, as I came out of my room to end the fight, you hit him."

She couldn't help the small smile that crept on her lips. Gods, she wished she could remember that. It must have felt _fantastic_.

"The two of you were rolling around on the floor. I came over, concerned for your safety. Your husband, however, told me that you were the Harbinger of the Companions and I need not worry for you. He also told me not to interfere because the two of you needed to work it out. So, I stayed and watched to make sure Mara's temple was not desecrated."

There were a hundred snide comments she could think to say at that moment, but kept her mouth firmly shut. The man was finally talking, and she didn't want to interrupt. But, she heard an inconsistency and perhaps it would prove that this was one big prank being played on her.

"Wait, if we were fighting, why doesn't Vilkas or I have any marks on our faces from the brawl?" she asked feeling proud of herself for figuring out the flaw in the story.

The priest blinked his mouth in a frown. "You truly remember none of this?"

"I think I already said that," she said, irritated at needing to repeat herself.

The man let out an agitated sigh. "You healed him and then yourself after you asked me to marry you two."

She stopped breathing.

"Please continue on with the story," she squeaked out.

"Your husband finally won the upper hand, flipping you on your back. While you were pinned, he began whispering in your ear. That part I didn't hear. Then he confessed…" The man stopped short, squirming where he stood. Csatari looked at Vilkas, who was glaring murderously at the priest. It was the most frightening look Csatari had ever seen him give, and she couldn't help but shudder.

"I…um…can't seem to recall what he said. The hour was late, you see," the priest said.

Csatari knew Vilkas was intimidating the man into silence.

"So, then what happened after Vilkas said whatever it is that you can't remember," she pushed, hoping for more.

The priest glanced back at her. "You two made love there on the ground." He pointed to the spot on the floor, and Csatari could see droplets of blood on the accent rug from where their fight must have taken place.

"We…made…love…and you allowed this?" she asked incredulously.

Maramal seemed miffed by her statement. "Normally, I would have ended the behavior. However, Mara sent me a message that I was to allow it. She revealed to me images of the two of you in times to come. Never have I seen a stronger bond between two souls. When Mara sends me her word, I must obey."

Csatari was sure her mouth dropped, no doubt looking as though she was trying to catch flies.

"Mara sent you visions. You hear voices in your head?" she was going for sincerity to not offend the priest further, but even Csatari could hear the silent scoff in her tone.

The man stood taller. "You should not mock the Divines after they gave you such a gift."

It took all of her energy not to laugh at the man as she bit her tongue hard. Vilkas was some prize alright.

A woman sitting in the nearby pew murmured, "I would have jumped him too. I bet he makes love like a sabre cat. They don't often come looking like him, honey."

The response shocked Csatari as she turned towards the woman, finding a woman in her late fifties who was sitting next to her husband staring hungrily at Vilkas. The situation was just so absurd, so comical; she convinced herself it wasn't real.

"I normally try to avoid him at all costs. The body isn't worth dealing with the personality. If you want him, he's all yours," Csatari told the woman, leaning down, whispering conspiratorially.

"That's not funny," Vilkas barked at Csatari.

She shrugged in response, mumbling, "Who said I was joking?"

She turned towards the priest who was watching the exchange dumbstruck.

_Are you rethinking those visions, buddy? Perhaps you should lay off sniffing so much incense._

"So, then what happened?" Csatari asked.

"You and your husband left to send news to your friends. The next day you returned with friends and family in the afternoon and were wed. Oh, and it was such a beautiful ceremony! All the seats were taken up! Such a wonderful outpouring of support. It brings a tear to the eye to see Mara's blessings at work," Maramal sniffled, wiping his eyes with the end of his robe.

Nothing freaked Csatari out more than tears. She had never cried in her life, not even when she was told of Bulmond's death. She just took all unpleasant memories, stuffed them in a locked chest in the back of her mind, and prayed they didn't try to escape. Nothing good came of replaying the past, of living with regrets. Wasting energy on such thoughts was how many got themselves killed- directly or indirectly.

She took out a handkerchief she kept in between her breast plate to wipe away traveling dust, offering it. "Um, please stop crying," she said, trying to keep the revulsion she felt out of her voice.

The sobbing priest took the handkerchief blowing his nose into it loudly. After wiping away more tears- _would the sob fest ever end? -_ and blowing his nose a second time, he offered to give her the wipe back.

"How about you keep it as a souvenir of your favorite couple," she said, disgusted by the thought of reusing it, and slightly afraid that some of this man's craziness might rub off on her if she touched it.

The priest placed the handkerchief in his pocket before letting out a loud sigh.

_There has to be some catch,_ Csatari thought as she scrambled to think of a way out of this mess.

"Wait a minute, if we were married, there'd be a marriage certificate."

The priest frowned again, his arms crossed. "Well, of course there is one. All of your friends signed it as the witnesses."

She knew she was on to something. Csatari couldn't write- she had never been taught. She could barely read. Even though she had read Kodlak's journal, it had taken her weeks to get through the few measly pages. She sat down at night painstakingly sounding out each letter until she could form the word. Bulmond had taught her to read after finding out she couldn't. He had been dead for years, and she hadn't anyone else she felt close enough to work with. She tried the best she could, but making money to survive always was the priority. Literacy, like praying, was another luxury she went without.

The priest walked off to retrieve the scroll from the vault. The silence was suddenly deafening. She turned towards Vilkas. "This is crazy, right? Can you believe that guy?"

He didn't respond, staring ahead, ignoring her. He looked _pissed._

Thankfully before the awkwardness could continue, crazy-pants was back with parchment in hand. He rolled it out, placing it down on the altar, using books as weights to keep the edges from rolling back up. She walked over, staring at the paper.

There was a lot of formal writing written in elegant script that being a Nord, Csatari knew was the vow between the couple. It was their commitment to each other written on paper- their agreement to each other.

She skimmed down to the signatures.

_V-I-L_

She knew the top signature must be Vilkas', his handwriting surprisingly neat for a battle-hardened warrior.

Underneath she saw a signature that was as beautiful as the above elegant script. She knew she had not signed this paper.

_Ahah!_

"I didn't sign this, so it can't be valid," she informed the priest looking for a loop hole.

He seemed taken aback by her response. "I know you didn't sign it. You informed your husband that you were not terribly literate, and couldn't write. He read to you the contract, and then I signed with your permission. That is the normal procedure here in the temple for people in your position."

Csatari felt the blood draining from her face. Vilkas knew she couldn't read well, or couldn't write. This was a weakness she would have never confessed in normal circumstances. She felt ashamed, embarrassed, small.

Unable to speak, she continued down the paper looking at all the witnesses' signatures.

_L-Y-D_

She knew it had to be Lydia.

_A-E_

Aela had signed as the bride's witness as well.

She counted the number of signatures on the pages, plus Lydia, and realized all of the Companions had come.

She felt a surge of anger run through, feeling betrayed. How had none of them tried to talk her out of this? Hadn't any of them seen that she was drunk and tried to reason with her? Wouldn't any of them have known it was Farkas whom she really loved?

She realized suddenly that none of them knew. She told no one of her heart's desire, because she in fact confided in no one. She was too afraid to let people in, too afraid to lose them, too afraid of being rejected. Despite sitting next to the Companions day in and day out, they knew next to nothing about her except that she had a terrible habit of keeping her left flank vulnerable no matter how many times it had been bludgeoned during training.

It was all on her. She had no one else to blame.

Csatari had no more tricks she could try, no more rabbits to pull out of her hat. She stared down at dismay at the very legal document staring her in the face.

She was married…to Vilkas.

She felt numb through and through unable to even accept what this would mean.

"How did I marry the wrong brother?" she whispered to herself absentmindedly.

A strong hand jerked her arm violently, and she looked up. When she saw Vilkas staring at her, his face inches from hers, she swore for a moment that he was contemplating murder.

"You're in love with my brother?" he hissed, his furious eyes demanding an answer.

Csatari stopped breathing for what felt like the longest second in her life.

_Oh, shit._

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A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing, favoriting, subscribing, following, lurking- you're all amazing.

Reviews=love. Your thoughts get me through the bad days at work.


	7. Chapter 7

I think I should know how  
>To make love to something innocent<br>Without leaving my fingerprints out, now  
>L-O-V-E's just another word<br>I'll never learn to pronounce  
>How do I say I'm sorry<br>'Cause the word is  
>Never gonna come out no<br>L-O-V-E's just another word  
>I'll never learn to pronounce<p>

~3OH!3- Starstrukk

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Csatari realized just how grave her mistake was instantaneously. Her mind mentally calculated what she was willing to sacrifice to keep Vilkas' silence. The thought of Farkas avoiding her in the hallways, unable to maintain eye contact, no longer sitting with her at night hurt too much . She could hear his low-pitched voice offering compliments as she lay in bed, his voice comforting her as much as a hug would. It would be bad enough with this little…_complication_, but to lose Farkas completely?

_Inconceivable._

Csatari realized she had been alone for so long… She decided she wasn't above begging- pride be damned.

"Vilkas, please don't tell your brother. He doesn't know, in fact no one does. I haven't told a soul."

His eyes were dead, and she realized that was more frightening than the anger for reasons she couldn't explain.

"You have told no one," he repeats, and Csatari saw a flash of _something_ in his eyes.

She seized upon the opportunity. "No one. Not even Lydia. Please don't say anything to him. I treasure your brother's friendship. I can't afford to lose him in my life."

She swallows hard, knowing she's about to play her last card, hoping it will win her the hand. "I'll do whatever you want for your silence."

His expression was stoic, but his eyes tightened marginally as though he was hatching some brilliant scheme. She had a sickening feeling as though an anvil had just been dropped in her stomach. This was going to cost her big, she could tell. A small part of her mind prayed that he wasn't sadistic.

Worst case scenario, she could deny it up and down.

After what felt like a lifetime, Vilkas finally nodded his head. "I will keep your secret if you agree to my terms."

She gulped hard. "What are the terms?"

"We'll discuss them over dinner," he replied. She wanted to explain that the second she left this cursed temple, Csatari wanted to get far away from this town.

"Can't we leave this town after? We can talk about the terms on the carriage ride back to Jorrvaskr."

"Accept my terms, or no deal," he said flatly.

She sighed knowing Vilkas had the upper hand. "Fine."

It was a few more hours in this wretched city. She could handle it. She wasn't ten any longer, they couldn't hurt her anymore.

There really was only one question left, the most important one. She turned towards Maramal.

"How can we get divorced?"

The priest looked outraged. "Do you have any idea what you're asking? Mara has never shown me such detailed visions before. When a soul is severed from its other half, it cannot function properly. You do not want to put yourself through such pain."

She stood there confused. Had this man not heard her admit to loving his brother? Yet, he still blabbered this nonsense?

_Perhaps he's hittin' the skooma, as well as sniffin' the incense?_

A priest with a drug problem? Wouldn't have surprised her in the least. Nothing would in this town- where the wicked came to play.

"Yes, I understand we're soul mates and all…so, how would we go about getting divorced?"

A smug look crossed the priest's face. "You can't. If you wish to live apart from your spouse, then that is your choice. You, however, made a vow that Mara accepted. You are required to honor that vow until one of you perishes. We do not grant separation. I suggest you learn to accept the situation, and love the man at your side."

The room began spinning, her breaths shallow, and she could not get enough air. How in one night had she ruined her life so completely?

"Csatari?" she heard a voice nearby say, but she was seeing spots in her vision. She stumbled over to the pews placing her head between her legs to ensure she did not vomit.

After some time, the room remained blissfully still, and she was sure she could stand. She was faced with an alarmed Vilkas staring at her, the very last person she wanted to see at the moment.

"We're done here," she said, turning for the door.

"You'll see that I'm right! Mara is never wrong!" the crazy priest shouted from behind her.

"Sod off," she muttered, angrily forcing the door open.

There would be no donation for him, or his precious Mara.

She walked down the steps of the temple towards the marketplace.

Csatari felt dejected, a complete failure. For the first time in her life, she didn't care what the next day brought; she couldn't even work up enough emotion to care what happened in the next moment. If the world ceased to be at that moment, she'd be fine.

She didn't care what others in this situation thought of her particularly, she was just so overwhelmingly disappointed in herself. She had never behaved like this, done anything this insane. The worst part was she felt as though she had somehow let Bulmond down. It was irrational and stupid, but she felt that he would be disappointed in her, and that hurt the most.

"What now?" she asked Vilkas over her shoulder, for once completely lost with no plan.

"Are you alright?"

She turned towards him, disarmed by his look of concern.

"No, I'm not," she admitted, "We just ruined our lives, and all of our friends allowed it."

"They had no reason to believe they should try and stop us," he said defensively.

"Right, because you and I were such close friends before. You were courting me, right? Or we sat together drinking ales at night, sharing stories. You know that wasn't the situation."

"Then what were we?" he asked.

She blinked, finding the question odd. "Ever since I walked into Jorrvaskr wanting to join, you've disliked me. I offend you to your very core, and every chance you saw me, you'd let me know just how below standard you believed me to be. I ran pretty much whenever I saw you to avoid another fight. Jorrvaskr is my first real home. I wasn't going to allow you to ruin that."

That same flash of _something _Csatari saw in the temple could be seen in his eyes. No emotion she could think of seemed to fit, however, and she was irritated by this unknown.

"I see," he said flatly.

She turned to continue walking, nearly running into a guard. His eyes narrowed after seeing her.

"I know you. You're a wanted woman."

Could the day get any worse?

"What did I do, and how much is my bounty?" she asked.

"Fifty sovereigns. Your crimes are harassing an on-duty guard, dancing on Keerava's bar, breaking bottles of wine, and the worst of the offenses- lollygagging."

_It could have been worse. You could have transformed and slaughtered this entire town._

Csatari sighed, picking up her coin purse. Looking inside, she realized she only had half the amount. She knew stories about Riften guards, however. They were worse than the Thieves' Guild; the guild only took your coin. There was no way she would spend a night in their jail weaponless.

"Listen, you seem like a nice guy. I'm sure we could work something out," she said.

The man's eyes lit up, misinterpreting her words. Before she could clarify, Vilkas was grabbing her arm, pulling her back to him.

"I'll pay the bounty," he snarled.

The guard seemed disappointed, but nodded. "Come with me to the jail then. We'll take any stolen items, then you'll be free to go after the amount is paid."

"What was that for?" she snapped at Vilkas.

"Did you believe I'd allow you to_ service_ that man? You are the Harbinger of the Companions. It's time you started acting like it."

She knew she shouldn't be surprised that Vilkas thought so little of her. Still, she was surprised to find out just how much it hurt.

"I had no plans to service _anyone._ I planned on paying him half the bounty now, and then when I returned to Jorrvaskr, sending a courier with the rest. I was hoping that _because _I am Harbinger, he would allow it, and I wouldn't spend the night in jail. Just because I can't write or read doesn't make me a whore, Vilkas. In fact, I've only been with two men in my entire life."

It was the first time that Vilkas looked surprised.

"And if you ever grab me like that again, Vilkas, I'll take your arm off," she finished, ripping her arm from his grasp, walking off in the direction of the jail.

000000…

It was a tediously long process at the jail. The guard who inspected her bag was chatty, and felt the need to comment on every item he touched. Vilkas watched every item that the guard pulled out of her bag which such intensity; she hadn't a clue what could have possibly held such interest for him.

Her only revenge was when the guard pulled out her menses wraps, spares she always carried around just in case. The man once realizing what they were screamed like a little girl, jumping up and down. Even Vilkas began to uncomfortably shuffle his feet.

The day was such a failure; she'd take any small win.

After the scene, they were promptly allowed to leave with no more items checked.

00000…

Csatari felt edgy being so low on money, so after leaving the Mistveil Keep, she walked over to the merchants and sold a few things- mostly the stuff she had taken off the dead bandit. Vilkas had hung back, watching, and she was doing her best to ignore him. It was childish, but she was still hurt by his assumption that she would sleep with the guard. She knew her behavior hadn't been ideal in the last few days. But, the whole week was a fluke occurrence, it's not as if he didn't see her day in and out in Jorrvaskr, know that this behavior was uncommon. She never had men come and stay over, even after taking over Kodlak's room. 

As much as she hated being low on money, she hated owing debts. She walked over to Vilkas, septims in hand. "For the bounty."

He shook his head. "Keep it."

As she began to protest, he slid septims into her other hand. It was strange to feel his fingertips brush hers. It didn't make her skin crawl, just felt unfamiliar. It was hands she didn't know.

"Why don't you get us a room, and then order us some food."

This was what she had been waiting for. She nodded, walking off, leaving him to his own devices. Csatari looked down at the coins in her hand. He had given her ten septims, enough money for one room. So, he supposed they would be sleeping together.

_Perhaps a dragon will swoop down and eat him._

One could hope.

Csatari walked into the Bee and Barb. A very angry female Argonian stared at her, and Csatari assumed it was her bar that she had danced on. She walked over to a male Argonian, who was tidying up the place, wiping down tables.

"May I rent a room?" she asked.

"Are you going to cause trouble again?" he asked, although his tone was mild.

"I'm sorry for any trouble I caused. It was my wedding night, and so I was very nervous about you know…I overdrank to calm the nerves," she said, hoping the lie would be believed.

"Oh, well, in that case, alright. You can be forgiven. Congratulations on getting married."

"Thanks," she mumbled, trying not to grimace. "Do you have any rooms with a double bed?"

"No," he replied, "but I'll give you largest room we have available right now."

He handed her a key as she gave him the septims.

Opening the door to the room, her heart dropped. The bed was barely big enough to fit Vilkas, and the room was miniscule.

She sighed; she had slept in worse places than the floor. Csatari dropped her knapsack down on the floor, sitting down on the bed, placing her head in her hands.

She rationalized that she felt so sick because of the inevitable. She had no idea what would come, and that's what made her wish that tomorrow would never arrive.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so terrible, she thought. Maybe this Dragonborn business would be a blessing. If she was away training with the Grey Beards and hunting down dragons, she'd be away quite a bit.

And if she died in battle, well, death by dragon is a pretty spectacular way to go as a warrior.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

…..

A/N: Thanks to everyone for the reviews, favorites, and subscribing. You guys make my day when I check my day. I love you all.

To those asking, Farkas will have long chapters later on. For now he won't until they finish Sanguine's quest and return to Jorrvaskr.


	8. Chapter 8

No matter how many deaths that I die, I will never forget.  
>No matter how many lives that I live, I will never regret.<br>There is a fire inside of this heart  
>and a riot about to explode into flames<br>Do you really want...  
>Do you really want me?<br>Do you really want me dead,  
>Or alive to torture for my sins?<p>

Do you really want...  
>Do you really want me?<br>Do you really want me dead,  
>Or alive to live a lie?<p>

~30 Seconds To Mars- Hurricane

0000000000000…..

She could hear his footsteps walking upstairs. Csatari just _knew_ it was him, even if she hadn't a clue how she knew.

Perhaps it had something to do with the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

The door opened and he looked inside the room, his eyes meeting hers.

"I thought I told you to order us food," he said.

So, now she was his servant?

"I know what you said," she said, trying to keep her calm, "but I have no appetite, and I had no idea what you like. I thought it would be best if you ordered your own food."

He stood there, regarding her statement. He walked fully into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Here," he said, handing her a mirror, "so you don't keep that piece of junk."

She took it, confused, staring at the hand mirror. It was solid gold, and around the frame of the mirror were sapphire, garnet, and emerald stones set in a spiral pattern. It looked expensive; gods only knew what he paid.

Csatari couldn't even think straight. All she knew was that she was _pissed._

She jumped off the bed, closing the two steps between them, shoving her face into his. "Who do you think you are?"

To his credit, he simply blinked, saying nothing. His calm infuriated her, however.

"You think you can just walk into my life and change me? I'm not a piece of junk, I'm not a whore, and I'm not your servant. You need to accept that I'll always be a bit broken, and I'll never be as polished as this," she said, shoving the mirror in his face.

His face remained neutral. "I don't think you're a whore. I _did_ think that you'd sleep with that guard to spite me. You're not a piece of junk or a servant, you're my _wife. _The mirror was a wedding present. I had not purchased one for you yet." He stared down at the mirror, frustrated. "Perhaps I should have wrapped it."

She blinked, all of the anger leaving her. A wedding present? Csatari glanced back at the mirror with new eyes. She couldn't refuse it, could she? She couldn't bring herself to outright apologize, however.

"When we were in Markarth, after I bathed, I looked at my armor sitting on the chair. I realized you were right; I didn't know just how beat up it was. When we head back to Jorrvaskr, I'll work a few jobs and have Eorlund make me new gear."

"There's no need."

Csatari stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"We took you out to the Bannered Mare that night to present you with our gift, a new set of armor. It was what I was hinting at. You, however, took it offensively, and my brother believed my words were harsher than necessary, ruining the moment."

Her mind blanked.

"Aela, Farkas, and I had Eorlund craft you a suit of wolf armor. It's most likely still hidden in Farkas' room," he said.

"You…made…me…new…gear," she mouthed the words, sitting down on the bed shocked.

"It was a gift from the Circle for your new title."

New armor, a gilded mirror, a new husband, a weekend of debauchery…

"This is too much," she murmured, her fingertips rimming the mirror's edge.

He sat down on the bed next to her. "You act as though you've never been given a gift before."

She couldn't dare look him in his eyes, too ashamed. He seemed to take her silence as her admittance. She could feel it, her whole world splitting apart, the earth beneath her feet unstable. Had she been completely wrong about Vilkas? It seemed his heart was earnest; he just had the worst delivery possible. The guilt she felt was overwhelming.

"I'm sorry you wound up with me. You could have done a lot better."

At that moment, her words felt like the most honest thing she had ever said in her life.

"You could have as well," he said, his tone hoarse with emotion.

Suddenly, she found herself defending him. "I watched all the women come out of your room, Vilkas. You're an accomplished warrior, a Companion. You're educated, refined, and easy on the eyes according to the old bitty in the temple," she said laughing.

"And you have no idea how many fights broke out in Jorrvaskr over you. They waited for you to show interest, to wear Mara's amulet. You never did, and most, well, I think they felt a bit rejected," he told her.

She felt her cheeks flush. Surely he was joking. When she looked up, he was still staring as intensely as ever. "I hadn't been looking for partnership, just a place to call home."

He let out an unsteady breath. "Am I the second man that you slept with?"

Her mind sputtered at the random change of topic. "Yes," she said staring at the floor, unable to look at him.

"And the first?" he pressed in a gravelly voice; it was beginning to frazzle her nerves.

"Died several years ago." Her fingers began gliding over the mirror again.

"Were you lovers?" His voice sounded so gentle, protective.

"Friends for four, lovers for three."

She had to ask, had to know, "Was it enjoyable?" She looked up to find his eyebrow piqued. "Do you remember? Was it at least satisfying?"

He nodded. "It was…satisfying."

Csatari felt miffed. "Well, I apologize that it didn't make the top of your list. Too bad I was sloshed and can't remember." She let out a long breath, feeling childish.

"No, that's not true. Even if I was sober and could remember, it wouldn't have been any better. I'm sorry it wasn't more," she said sincerely.

She laughed inwardly at her stupidity. The same man who she wanted to kill several hours ago was the same man she now wished she had crazy, passionate sex with on the temple floor.

_You're losing your mind, Csatari._

His hand cupped her face, his thumb brushed across her cheek. It was calloused, but she was amazed at just how gentle his touch was. "It was_ satisfying_," he repeated. His gaze was intense, and Csatari realized that they were no longer talking about sex.

The look in his eyes… Csatari recognized it immediately. The night Bulmond told her that he was madly in love, his eyes looked the same. She would remember that night always.

_It's the same look._

She turned to look at him again, to make sure she wasn't going crazy. He was already looking away, however, the moment gone.

"What do you require of me?" she asked in a timid voice.

"Concerning?"

"Everything. Mostly what I need to do for your silence, but I'm also curious as to what you expect from _us_."

He slid away from her. His posture tensed, his eyes were cold again. It was frightening just how fast his entire demeanor changed- from fire to ice.

"My requirements are the same for both."

Csatari placed the hand mirror down on the nightstand, crossing her arms and her legs, worrying her lower lip.

"Firstly, you will address me as husband when we're in public. Secondly, you will not enter my brother's room, and he will not be in yours. Thirdly, I will give you a reading and writing lesson at least once a week. Fourthly, we'll have at least one meal a day together. Fifthly, you will never tell _anyone_ about your feelings for Farkas."

His eyes were watching her intently, as she let out the breath she was holding. She had been expecting much worse. Vilkas wanted the façade of a marriage. She could give him that.

"What about sleeping together? Can we sleep in our own beds? Do we have to….?" Csatari trailed off, worrying her lip more intensely.

Vilkas looked away, staring at the wall, his hands clasped, his voice vulnerable sounding. "I would like us to sleep in the same bed, but…I won't demand it. I'll let you decide. As far as sex, I would never force you. I do require you to be faithful, however."

She nodded. They wouldn't be sharing beds, though, that was for sure.

Csatari stopped to think, however. If she wasn't sleeping with him, he would become a frustrated man quickly. Csatari remembered the string of women who came out of his room, sometimes more than one woman a day. A man like him couldn't go without for long. He had been a hunter for far too long to give up the game.

"Vilkas, I wanted you to know I'm alright with you sleeping with other women."

His jaw clenched. "I am married. I _will_ be faithful."

That hadn't gone as she had hoped.

"Right, I know, but marriage is a big life style change for you. We were both drunk when we got married. I know it'll be a sacrifice for you to give up other women. I'm just saying you don't have to. Just be nice to me, and you can sleep with whomever you want. No questions asked."

His eyes clenched shut and he looked as though he had been stabbed. "I will be faithful," he whispered.

It was going to be a mess. She could already see it. He would break, and wind up sleeping with some wench. Mortal men always believed they had the strength of gods.

They would just deal with it when the time came, she supposed. At least she wasn't being forced.

"How about when you and I are away on jobs and can't eat together?" she asked.

"Then we'll have to make up the meals that we miss together," he said with a small smirk on his lips.

She nodded. "I accept."

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

She shook her head. Her stomach was still hurting from her nerves.

"What do you wish to do?"

"Honestly, I just want to go to sleep, so we can get out of this town early tomorrow. I need to get home to Whiterun and pay the stables for Queenie's expenses. It's the end of the month."

He nodded, clearly in thought. She scooted closer to him on the bed. "Thank you for the, um, wedding gift. It's very nice. You didn't have to, though. I'll have to think of something nice to get you." She leaned over, placing a quick peck on his cheek.

His finger came up again, brushing against her cheek. "I should have wrapped it, made it more presentable," he murmured.

Csatari shrugged. "It's the thought that counts."

She moved off the bed, lying on the floor, using her knapsack as a pillow. From the bed, he glanced down at her.

"You don't want to sleep in the bed with me," he stated.

"It's a pretty small bed. I'm fine here on the floor," she said. She didn't want to admit to him the uncomfortable truth.

"In that case, sleep on the bed. I'll sleep on the floor," Vilkas replied.

"No, I can't let you do that." She knew she'd feel insanely guilty if she was in the bed and he was lying on the floor because of her.

"Csatari, I won't let you sleep on the floor," he protested.

"Fine!" she snapped, "We'll both sleep in the bed."

She began taking off her armor. The bed would barely fit the two of them, it would be impossible with all of their gear on. As she began unbuckling all the straps, sliding her breast plate off, she could feel his eyes watching her. When she turned in his direction, he was staring at the ground.

Several moments later, he stood up and began taking all of his armor off as well. When the two were down to plain shirts and pants, they piled their armor up in the corner of the room.

Csatari stared at the bed, daunted.

"How do you think we should, um?" she asked, scratching her head.

"Get in and lay on your side."

She slid into the bed, her rear up against the wall. Vilkas joined her after blowing out the candle. The room was dark, moon light seeping in through the window. Their faces were nearly pressed together, as well as their bodies. He was so warm; an intense amount of heat was being emitted from his body. She was acutely aware of his presence so close to her, his breath tickling her face.

Her bound was wound up tighter than a cuckoo clock.

This was going to be a very long night.

00000000000…

A/N: Thanks for reviewing, reading, following, and favoriting this story.

Reviews=love. You have no idea how much I love reading your comments. It really makes my day.

BTW, a minor correction a reader pointed out. My source was apparently wrong. Vilkas means wolf in Lithuanian, not Hungarian. Farkas means wolf in Hungarian. Sorry for that error.

For the Farkas fans, I have several scenes already written out between him and Csatari. I promise you this, you haven't read anything yet!

Also, we'll be done with Riften next chapter. No more lots of dialogue eating the chapter. Sorry about that, it just had to be ironed out.


	9. Chapter 9

Come on baby, I'm tired of talking.  
>Grab your coat and lets start walking.<br>Come on, come on  
>Don't procrastinate, don't articulate.<br>Girl it's getting late, getting' upset waitin' around.

A little less conversation, a little more action please.  
>All this aggravation aint satisfactioning me.<br>A little more bite and a little less bark  
>A little less fight and a little more spark<br>Close your mouth and open up your heart and baby satisfy me  
>Satisfy me baby<p>

~Elvis Presley- Little Less Conversation

000000000000000…

_The tall meadow grass is tickling her face. She's surrounded by beautiful flowers. The reds, blues, purples are so vivid that it is mesmerizing. Her fingertips reach out to touch the nearest flower above her head; the pedals are so fragile against her palm._

_A calloused hand runs down her left breast and across her belly. She looks down to see Farkas' large frame hovering over her. He's completely naked, saddled between her legs, a hunger in his eyes. Instinctually, she knows what he wants, and she nods. He grabs her legs, throwing them over his shoulder. She shivers in anticipation knowing what will come next._

It was Vilkas' snoring that woke her up while the sun began to shine through the tattered, moth eaten, green window curtains. She realized that somehow during the night they switched positions. Csatari was nestled in Vilkas' chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Vilkas," she said, gently rubbing his shoulder. He woke up disoriented, but when he looked down, his eyes were wary. She felt a strange sense of guilt like she was somehow responsible for that look. She offered a small smile and said, "Good morning."

A flash of surprise ran through his face, before he smiled back. "Good morning."

Csatari took it as a positive sign that she did not feel the intense need to be out of his hold immediately. His touch did not repulse her, if it felt a bit odd. She would not bring up the fact that his desire was pressing into her upper thigh. What the mind and the body wanted were two separate things. She knew that better than most.

He moved strands of her Mohawk out of her face, and she smiled. She also did not give him any indication that she wanted him to continue. She respected him enough now to not want to give mixed signals.

He read her well enough, however, that he began disentangling their bodies. Sliding off the bed, she walked over to her pile of armor, beginning to dress. He followed suit, dressing quietly, although she could feel his eyes on her.

"What?" she asked, feeling herself flush.

"I was just wondering what you were thinking about," he said while pulling his chest piece over his head.

"Going home, returning to Jorrvaskr, and getting out of this city. I can't wait," she said smiling.

When they were fully dressed, Csatari wrapped the golden hand mirror in an extra pair of underclothes to ensure it would remain undamaged in her knapsack. From the corner of her eye, Csatari noticed Vilkas watching, but not commenting.

"I'll go order us breakfast," he said, opening the door to the room and leaving.

Breakfast was rather uneventful, both eating a bowl of porridge with apple slices and a mug of hot cider. They didn't speak while eating, but it was a comfortable silence.

As she was about to stand up to leave, Vilkas said," Why don't we hunt down Sam and the staff before returning to Jorrvaskr?"

The idea wasn't terrible she thought. She was dangerously low on gold, and Queenie's food and board needed to be paid for.

"Alright," she said. "Any idea where we should start?"

As soon as she asked the question she remembered the note given to her by the priestess in Markarth.

She pulled it out, and began slowly reading it.

_In case you are wondering, you were blabbering in your DRUNKEN STATE about Ennis and a goat in Rorikstead. Remember, drinking solves nothing. May Dibella bless you._

_~Senna_

Csatari looked up at Vilkas. "We're going to Rorikstead. Perhaps we can hire the carriage to Solitude and see if he'll drop us off near the village."

Vilkas nodded in agreement to the plan and both stood up, leaving the inn.

Csatari couldn't leave the city fast enough, and Vilkas was having trouble keeping up.

"What's the rush?" he asked, trying to keep at her side.

"Oh, I just really want to get out of this town that's all," she said, throwing the words over her shoulder.

When they reached Riften's stables, the carriage driver agreed. They would pay the twenty septims to Solitude, and he would drop them off in Rorikstead.

Sitting in the carriage, Csatari placed her knapsack between her feet, not wanting the mirror to jostle. Vilkas placed his greatsword across the width of the carriage, as the driver began the journey. Csatari couldn't help herself smiling knowing that she was leaving that filthy city behind her, and she would soon be where she belonged.

It was a quiet ride, neither feeling the need to fill the silence, and Csatari watched the scenery. Such a different carriage ride then the one they took to Riften, Csatari thought in amusement.

She was watching another herd of deer as her mouth again began salivating when she watched the deer suddenly scamper off. They were deep in the Rift's hold, nowhere near society, nothing but beautiful meadows and forests passing them by.

Out of the corner of Csatari's eyes, she saw metal moving too quickly and realized it was a dagger.

"Duck, Vilkas!" she shouted.

Realizing the blade's trajectory was aimed for her head, she dropped to the floor of the carriage, now far too low for the blade. As she watched the dagger whiz passed her, she watched in horror as it landed in the back of the carriage driver's skull. He slumped over in his seat, and Csatari knew the man was dead. With no one steering the horse, it began to slow down, trotting in the direction it pleased.

Csatari looked out the back of the carriage to see a Khajit standing on the road, hissing in frustration before making a run for the trees.

"Oh, no, you don't," she shouted, jumping off the still moving carriage, tumbling as she landed before sprinting in its direction.

"Csatari!" she could hear behind her, but she wasn't stopping, and she was sure Vilkas hadn't been harmed.

The Khajit was fast, faster than her, but she wouldn't let her prey get away. She dropped her shield; it slowed her down too much and sprinted as fast as she could across the meadow towards the forest tree line. She closed the distance between them marginally. Csatari suddenly saw a bow propped up against a tree with a quiver and wondered if it was the Khajit's. Why use a dagger, then? It didn't matter, it was what she needed.

Csatari grabbed the bow and an arrow, docking it. Csatari was suddenly relieved those lessons Aela gave her would now come in handy. She waited until the target was locked in view.

The Khajit was smart, weaving in and out of trees to make her harder to detect. What the assassin hadn't realized, however, was that it was using the same pattern, making its next move predictable. Csatari released the arrow already sure it would land in the cat's back. She began running, however, in case the arrow only wounded the attacker. Sure enough, the cat was crawling across the ground in hope of escaping.

Her foot landed hard on the attacker's back, a growl escaping the cat. She forced the arrow deeper into its body causing it to scream.

"Tell me who sent you. Who do you work for?" Csatari demanded.

The cat let out another growl. "Hail Sithis!" its raspy voice shouted.

After knowing the cat wouldn't give her anymore, Csatari unsheathed her blade, dropping the bow beside her, running the sword straight through the cat's middle. Csatari knew the weapon had gone completely through when she could feel the blade's tip hitting against the frozen ground.

She wrenched the rapier out, taking out a cloth from her side pocket, wiping it down before sheathing it. She could hear Vilkas running through the woods and knew he was about to approach. She turned the Khajit's body over, the arrow snapping as the body flipped.

"That's strange looking armor," she commented absentmindedly.

"That's the Dark Brotherhood armor," Vilkas said next to her, panting slightly.

"An assassin? Do you have any jealous ex-lovers that I need to know about?" she asked teasingly.

"This isn't funny. This cat could have killed you."

Csatari rolled her eyes as she began looting the body's corpse. Folded parchment laid in the assassin's left pocket.

"What do you make of this?" she asked, handing the note to Vilkas.

She continued to search the Khajit for any valuables. Two orcish daggers were sheathed on its belt, but in its right pocket was a sweet roll.

"The contract is out for you, Csatari. It says here your name, where you live, and instructions that you should not be confronted directly as you are considered highly dangerous."

"Does it say anything about you?" she asked, eyeing the sweet roll in her hand.

"No."

"Well that's at least something," she said before pressing the treat to her lips.

"Do not eat that. That was in an assassin's pocket. It could be poisoned or moldy," he warned.

She sniffed it. "Seems fine," she said before moving to take a bite.

Vilkas grabbed the sweet roll from her hand, throwing it on the ground, smashing it with his foot.

"What is wrong with you?" he shouted.

"What did you do that for?" She stared at the ground, irritated.

"People want you dead and you're more focused on a snack," he snapped.

Now irate, she turned to him, her arms up in the air. "What do you want from me? Yes, an assassin tried to kill me, and now it, he, she, whatever it is, is dead." She stared down at the smashed treat mournfully. "And so is the sweet roll."

She glanced back at the carriage in the distance. "And so is the driver," she said regretfully. She turned back to Vilkas. "If I could have saved his life, I would have."

"I know." He hesitated a moment before adding, "Better him than you, though."

She took a step towards Vilkas closing the distance between them. "Were you injured?" she asked.

"It's nothing. I don't want your magic."

She placed her hand out. "I'll take the pain away."

He shook his head.

"Don't you trust me?" she asked smiling.

He seemed to be regarding her statement more seriously than she had meant it and reluctantly placed his hand in hers after taking off his gauntlet.

She understood that for whatever reason magic made Vilkas uncomfortable. She had met many mercenaries who felt the same during her time. The trick was to keep them distracted.

"Look at me," she instructed him, and his eyes met hers.

"So, during our first lesson, do you want to work on reading or writing first?" she asked as the healing magic began flowing out of her fingers on to the gash on his forearm.

"Reading since you already understand the basics."

Csatari's hand was moving around the cut, her fingertips rubbing his skin.

"It would be nice to sign my own name, however. I do have to sign a lot of papers being Harbinger," she added to distract him.

"How _did_ you sign your name before?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Tilma signed for me."

He frowned at the news.

"There, all done," she announced. "That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

He looked down at his forearm, his gauntleted finger running over where the cut had been. She had left no scar behind, no evidence that it had ever existed. She was sure some woman someday would thank her for not allowing his body to be marred.

He placed his gauntlet back on without saying another word, and Csatari didn't push the matter.

"Alright, we have to drag this body back to the carriage. We'll put it in the back with the driver as evidence of the attack. When we get to Rorikstead, we'll hand it over to the guards to sort out."

"Who will drive the carriage?" he asked, alarmed.

"I will. It can't be much different than riding Queenie. It'll be fine," she told him.

Vilkas did not appear relieved. Ignoring him, Csatari grabbed the Khajit's arms, along with the bow, motioning for Vilkas to pick up the legs. He did, and as they slowly carried the body out, Csatari placed the bow back where she had found it.

She wasn't sure if it was the assassin's bow; it could have been a hunter's nearby. She didn't want to steal from someone unknowingly.

Vilkas' eyebrow piqued as she placed the bow back, but otherwise said nothing.

After what felt like an eternity and picking up her shield along the way, they finally made it back to the now stopped horse, placing the dead assassin in the carriage.

Csatari motioned for Vilkas to help her with the dead driver, and they carried his body to the back as well. The carriage had a door that she raised, latching it in place, keeping the bodies from sliding out.

Csatari climbed up the driver's side, taking the reins, Vilkas climbing up to sit next to her. He held on to the wood around him with a death grip, his eyes wary.

She was a little miffed that he was so worried.

"Honestly, it's going to be fine. I just need to figure out the commands. That's all," she said.

She rolled her eyes as she heard Vilkas muttering things under his breath.

0000000000…

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing, subscribing, alerting, lurking. I love you all.

Reviews= love.

I've been under the weather this weekend and many of your reviews made me cry. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.


	10. Chapter 10

And you over think  
>Always speak cryptically<br>I should know  
>That you're no good for me.<br>Cause you're hot then you're cold.  
>You're yes then you're no.<br>You're in then you're out.  
>You're up then you're down.<br>You're wrong when it's right.  
>It's black and it's white.<br>We fight, we break up.  
>We kiss, we make up.<br>You don't really want to stay, no.

But you don't really want to go.  
>~Katy Perry- Hot N Cold<p>

000000000000….

It took them half a day to make it to Rorikstead, Csatari driving, while Vilkas held on for dear life the entire time, muttering every profanity imaginable. They stopped for a brief lunch, paying a nearby farmer for his fruit. She tried to make conversation with him, but whenever she would ask questions, he would shout at her to pay attention to the road, even during lunch break.

She thought he was overreacting. It had taken her a few tries to figure out the commands, and there was that one time the carriage almost tipped over from Catatari taking the turn too sharply, but she thought she had done well overall.

When she started to slow the carriage after entering Rorikstead, however, Vilkas jumped out without Csatari coming to a full stop.

"Smart move. I hope you landed in manure! " she shouted at him while parking the horse near the village's inn.

Hopping down, she walked over to where Vilkas was standing, dusting himself off. Curious farmhands looked up from their plowing to see the commotion.

"Was flying off a moving carriage with a sword in hand really a wise choice?" she asked him.

"It was wiser than remaining. I wasn't sure you'd stop before plowing into the tavern," he replied dryly.

She scoffed at his statement. "And yet somehow the inn remains standing."

Vilkas began walking towards the nearest guard. "The Divines must be watching this town closely then."

Csatari threw Vilkas a dirty look before he said to the guard. "We have a crime to report."

The guard turned lazily toward Vilkas, taking the piece of straw he was chewing on out of his mouth. "Let me guess. Someone stole your sweet roll," he said, highly irritated at being bothered from his cloud gazing.

Vilkas flashed Csatari a look. _Restrain yourself from saying anything about his comment._

It made it more difficult not to burst out laughing, so Csatari bit her inner lip hard.

"No, a murder and attempted murder," Vilkas replied.

There was a glimmer of excitement in the guard's eyes as though he had just been given an early birthday gift. She could understand. The worst crime that occurred out here was a cow breaking a fence board.

"Alright, give me the details," the guard said.

Csatari listened to Vilkas explain what happened, showed the guard the note found on the assassin's body, pointed to the bodies in the carriage. He fibbed about where the attack occurred so there were no jurisdictional issues. The crime happened in Rift's hold, so technically they should have gone back to Riften, not continued on to Whiterun's hold. The lie was just fine with her. She wouldn't have gone back.

The guard looked at Csatari dubiously. "Why would anyone bother with wanting _her_ dead?"

"You stand before the Harbinger of the Companions. So, before you speak again, show my wife the respect due," Vilkas barked at the guard causing him to jump in fright.

The man's eyes widened. "Harbinger?"

Csatari waved, trying to hide her embarrassment, knowing Vilkas was sideways glaring at her. Honestly, why did he have to make such a huge deal out of everything? The way he spoke, people would think Csatari was ten feet tall and could shoot lightning bolts from her eyes. She was Harbinger, not immortal. She wouldn't even think about the other title some people called her.

"I'll found out who caused this incident. In case we have any more questions, where can we contact you in the future?" the guard asked.

Csatari raised her eyebrow quizzically. _This_ guy was going to figure out who hired the assassin? Color her surprised.

"You could try Jorrvaskr. It's where my husband and I live," Csatari said.

The word _husband_ sounded strange coming off her lips, like she was playing pretend.

"Oh, right. That would make sense since you're Companions," the guard mused.

"What's going to happen to the horse?" Csatari asked, motioning towards the animal with her head.

"Oh, I don't know. If the carriage owner doesn't have any family, the horse will probably be killed for the meat. No one will want to take on the responsibility of a horse her age."

Csatari couldn't leave the beast to its fate. "How about the carriage stays here with the evidence, and I'll take the horse with me to Whiterun. I'll care for it until everything is sorted out."

"I'm not sure we can let you take it," the guard said, looking around as if needing someone else to answer for him.

"Why not? The horse will remain in Whiterun hold, and you know exactly where she will be. You know who I am and where I live, so there are no tricks being played," she argued.

He seemed to consider her statement. "Alright, until we can figure things out, the horse can go with you."

She nodded, walking over to the dapple grey horse, beginning to untie the carriage harness. Vilkas followed her, untying the other side, mirroring her movements.

"Yes?" she asked, feeling his glare.

"Are we going to pick up every stray and sob story that we meet?" he asked.

_You married a stray, Vilkas._

"Probably," Csatari answered venomously.

"It's going to get you killed," he shot back as they yelled at each other over the horse's rear.

"Maybe, but at least I can go to sleep at night knowing that I tried and didn't just turn a blind eye. That's worth more to me than a long, callous life. Besides, if we keep this horse, Queenie can be your wedding gift."

His eyes widened. "You love that horse."

It was true, she couldn't deny it. Csatari bought Queenie after realizing that going to High Hrothgar would mean traveling seven thousand steps. Best money she ever spent. The horse was now her battle buddy.

Csatari and Vilkas had also rode Queenie when they went to retrieve the stolen pieces of Wuthraad, the first and truly only time they had gone into battle together aside from the carriage ride mishaps. He had ridden behind her the whole time, but she hadn't thought anything of it. Kodlak lay dead; their house had been invaded and robbed. Both of them had been in mourning.

"Yes, but this horse is a lot older." She let out a sigh. "Queenie will take care of you, and…you are my husband, so that's a good thing."

Csatari hoped Vilkas didn't notice how she rushed through the last statement because it felt weird to be referring to him as husband and wanting him taken care of, and because it was unnatural for her to be expressing her feelings.

Vilkas looked at the ground, his brows pulled together. She didn't even bother trying to figure out what that expression meant. She was sure she'd wind up with a headache trying to wrap her mind around it. With the carriage now unhooked, Csatari wheeled it to the side of the building for the guards, grabbing her knapsack.

She then took the horse, tying the reins to the inn's post, hiding her backpack in the nearby bush. Giving the mare a gentle pat on the neck as she began grazing, Csatari said, "We just have to do some quick business. You'll come with us then, and I'll take care of you. I won't let them turn you into dinner."

The horse neighed in response before returning to eating grass.

"What?" she asked, responding to Vilkas' glare. "Horses understand you."

As they began walking, Csatari heard him muttering the word insane.

000000000….

As they walked to the first farm in Rorikstead, Csatari knew they were at the right place when the man started shouting, running towards her. "You've got some nerve coming here!"

"Looks like we found Ennis," Csatari muttered to Vilkas, watching him toy with the idea of taking out his great sword, perceiving the weaponless farmer as a threat.

"Don't you dare attack him," she said in a hushed whisper.

"Hello. I'm terribly sorry. The last time we met is a big blur. Would you mind helping me fill in the blanks?" she asked in a friendly tone.

"You mean you don't remember stealing my goat and selling her to a giant? Gleda was a prize winning goat! I'll never find another like her!" the man wailed.

Csatari stood there stupefied.

"Alright, if I go get your goat back, will you tell me what happened?" she asked.

"If I get my Gleda back _unharmed_, then I'll jog your memory."

_Fuck._ Fighting a giant wasn't high on her list of things she wanted to do that day.

"Can you point me in the giant's direction?" Csatari asked.

The man explained where the giant was located, and Csatari began for the road.

"Is this ringing a bell for you?" she asked Vilkas, who was frowning. "I'll take that as a no, then."

"You should be pleased," he huffed, "First, you saved a horse, now you get to save a goat. What's next? A distressed rooster?"

"If a cock is in trouble, then I'll be there to save it." The words came out before she could think about it, and Csatari burst out laughing once she realized what she had said.

The look Vilkas gave let her know he didn't find her comment funny in the least.

They walked to the edge of the village, veering off the road, starting for the hill. Reaching the top, Csatari could only stare. A goat was grazing, its leash being held by a giant.

"Perhaps we can reason with the giant," Csatari said optimistically.

Vilkas stared at her as though she had lost her mind and unsheathed his great sword.

She took a few steps forward. "Hello, Mr. Giant. I was wondering if we could talk about the goat."

The giant turned in her direction, and roared loudly.

"I guess not," she muttered, unlatching her shield quickly and unsheathing her sword.

The giant let go of the goat's leash, charging towards her.

"Vilkas, I'll distract him up front, you take him from behind!"

When she heard what she had inadvertently said, she began laughing again, narrowly missing the giant's club.

"Are you seriously laughing right now?" Vilkas asked, his sword tearing apart the behemoth's back.

Csatari banged her sword against her shield, the noise distracting the giant from turning on Vilkas.

"You gotta admit it was pretty funny," she said, while rolling out of the way in time for the giant to swing his club again.

"Can we please focus, now!" he shouted.

The giant let out a scream from another of Vilkas' successful hits. The titan turned his head towards his attacker.

"Hey!" Csatari shouted. "You better come and get me before I take your goat!" Csatari moved a step in Gleda's direction.

The giant roared again, taking another step in her direction to stop her. He swung his club again, but this time when she went to dodge the attack, she stumbled on a tree stump. Falling, she wasn't completely out of the way, her leg coming into contact with the club.

She could hear the cracking sound and knew her thigh bone had just shattered.

That was going to hurt later. Perhaps tonight wasn't the best time to swear off alcohol.

She screamed out, unable to stop herself, the giant satisfied it had landed a blow.

It all happened very fast after that.

Vilkas screamed like a deranged lunatic and in one sweep, sliced off one of the Gargantua's arms. Howling in pain, the giant turned on Vilkas.

As Csatari shouted for Vilkas to run, she suddenly heard a neighing sound from behind her.

Turning, she saw the dapple grey charging up the hill toward the colossus.

The horse reared, and with its front hooves, knocked the behemoth over.

"Take the giant's head off!" Csatari screamed to Vilkas from the ground.

Vilkas raised his sword above his head, bringing it down with all of his might. The giant's head began rolling down the hill.

Vilkas ran over to her, and seeing his face, she held her hand up. "No lecture."

He knelt down next to her. "Can you heal yourself?" he asked, his voice concerned.

"Yes, but I'll be limping for a few days."

She focused her energy, letting the healing spell leave her finger tips and enter her thigh. She began panting, sweating, her body shaking as the bones began to rejoin, the swelling and bruising ebbing.

When she was drained of magicka and was sure she could stand, she stood up, Vilkas' hand out to help her.

She hobbled over to the giant, picking up his club. "Perfect," she muttered, as she began walking, using it as a walking stick.

Csatari limped over to the mare, patting its neck. "Good girl," she praised. The horse began gently nuzzling her.

"So, am I to be surrounded by women?" Vilkas asked, and Csatari gave a small smile knowing the horse had just gained his favor.

"I think most men would kill to be surrounded by women."

Vilkas grunted. "Ignorance is bliss."

"Would you mind checking the giant for valuables?" she asked.

He turned about to say something, but closed his mouth and nodded.

While he checked the giant, Csatari walked over to pick up the goat's leash.

"Come on, trouble maker, let's get you back home," she said to the goat.

Csatari remembered something then. "Oh, hey. Can you do me a favor? Can you cut off its big toes? They're perfect for health potions."

"Anything else?" he asked irritated, taking out a dagger to complete the task.

Csatari waited for Vilkas to finish, and as he walked back, his hands were overflowing.

They walked back together, the mare following behind. Ennis ran over when he spotted them.

"Gleda, she doesn't have a scratch on her!" the farmer shouted, picking the goat up, rubbing its underbelly.

"Ok, so can you please tell me anything from that night?" she asked.

Still rubbing the goat, Ennis said, "Well, after you stole my goat, you left me a note. Half of it was gibberish and the other half had mead spilled all over it. It said something about Ysolda and Whiterun."

Csatari let out a sigh of relief. Ysolda was her friend, and going to Whiterun meant she was going home. She didn't feel the need to tell Ennis it was impossible for her to have left him a note being she couldn't write. She guessed it was Vilkas who wrote the note.

She apologized to the man again for the situation, and turned to leave hobbling on her club turned walking stick. Hobbling back over to where her knapsack was, she pulled it out. Taking a few empty sacks from inside, she held it out for Vilkas. He loaded the goods inside- weapons, a shield, a sapphire, sabre cat pelt, etc. and took the bag from her.

"Ready to go home?" she asked.

Vilkas' face fell. She thought she was imagining things, but he quickly looked away, refusing to meet her gaze.

"Vilkas, what's wrong?" she asked.

He was still refusing to meet her eyes, so she placed her hand on his shoulder. Her touch seemed to affect him as he then broke his silence.

"I'm not ready to go home yet."

Her eyebrows arched, waiting for an explanation.

"If we go home, you won't be mine anymore," he said.

When she looked into his eyes, she was taken aback by the sincerity. She didn't understand, but whatever irrational fear he was having, she wanted it to end.

"You know, my leg's really hurting me. Perhaps we could stay at the tavern tonight."

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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, the favorites, the subscriptions, and the lurkers. I love you all.

Reviews=love.

I have the best reviewers in all of ff. Seriously.

Thanks for reading! =)


	11. Chapter 11

I've asked about you and they told me things,  
>But my mind didn't change,<br>And I still feel the same.  
>What's a life with no fun? Please don't be so ashamed.<br>I've had mine, you've had yours. We both know.  
>We know. They don't get you like I will.<br>My only wish is I die real.  
>Cause that truth hurts, and those lies heal.<p>

~Drake- Take Care

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A fleeting glance passed between Vilkas and Csatari, and found that they shared the same thought; both glanced to the horse and Csatari was the first to break the silence.

"We have to find shelter for the mare," Csatari murmured, and although Vilkas rolled his eyes, his huge hands twisted delicately in the horse's reins and casting a lingering look at Csatari, led the horse to the stables.

Csatari followed at a slower pace, leaning heavily on her club. With each step, pain shot through her side, and she grimaced as she realized she would need another round of healing soon.

"My name is Vilkas, an esteemed Companion hailing from Whiterun," the man introduced himself, nodding to the stablekeeper.

Csatari fought the urge to roll her eyes. She wondered if Vilkas thought trumpets would shoot out from the skies and start playing in his honor someday.

The stablekeeper didn't seem terribly impressed. "Hello, Vilkas. Nice to meet yer," he said, resting his weight against his pitchfork, scratching at a scraggy beard with dirt-encrusted nails.

"My wife and I are staying at the inn tonight," Vilkas began, glancing at the straw stuck in the keeper's hair. "She is a bit attached to this mare. Would you house the beast for a night?" At the country man's uninterested stare, Vilkas quickly continued. "I will pay for the inconvenience."

"Five septims," the farmer said, toeing the dirt. Vilkas frowned.

"Your stable is hardly worth half of that. Three," Vilkas countered, "and you'll give it hay and water."

The man grimaced, and finally relented at Vilkas's unwavering stare. "Deal," the man said, taking the mare's reins quickly when the companion's eyes grew abnormally dark.

Nickering, the mare turned her head in Csatari's direction, ears flicking in questioning.

"I don't want you out in the cold tonight. I promise when me and crabby," Vilkas huffed, crossing his arms, "leave tomorrow. You'll come with us."

The grey turned her head, following the stable keeper off to a paddock when he whistled and shook a bucket of oats in front of her nose.

"You realize that you appear insane speaking to an animal as though it can understand," Vilkas said, amused.

"She does understand," Csatari countered, self-consciously pulling a face at her husband. "She feels alone and fears for her future. She'll do anything to stay with us…To feel safe."

After she spoke, she watched Vilkas' head shift sideways, his darkened eyes regarding her. She internally kicked herself realizing she had revealed too much.

"Anyways, let's pay the man and be done with it."

Csatari watched a red headed young man, no older than herself, watching her in the field. Resting his hoe against the fence, he whistled and he began walking in her direction.

The closer he came, the more Csatari realized he was attractive, with red shoulder length hair, and bright blue expressive eyes. He smiled warmly at her, his tall muscular frame carrying him with ease. He wasn't as built as Vilkas, but there was still a solid physical strength to him that was similar to the companion.

"Hey, I'm Eric. Nice to meet you. You look like an adventurer. I bet you have lots of interesting stories to tell," His smile was so warm and open, and Farkas's smile flashed in her mind, taking the place of the man's. Before she could even open her mouth, Vilkas was grabbing the man's hand, shaking it hard.

"The name's Vilkas. This is my wife, Csatari. Of course we have stories that _we _could tell you." Csatari stared at Vilkas wondering about his odd behavior. The man finally ripped his hand from Vilkas' grasp, shaking it slightly, eyeing him warily. She had no idea what was going on, but she didn't need anyone to speak for her.

"Nice to meet you, Eric. I've done a bit of exploring." Vilkas shot her a murderous glare, and Csatari narrowed her eyes, ignoring his venomous look.

Eric sighed. "I wish I could be an adventurer like you. My father says I have to stay here and work at the farm. I'd rather die than stay in this town though."

Csatari watched the man gaze longingly at the road leading out of the village, and it pulled at her heartstrings.

"I can try talking to your father for you," she offered.

"Really? He works at the inn," the man said, excited.

Vilkas continued glaring, and Csatari realized the stable keeper was back from attending to the mare.

"Let's pay the man," Csatari said to Vilkas, motioning with her head.

In a huff, Vilkas stormed off leaving her standing there, lost in her own confused thoughts.

"Sorry," she murmured to the bewildered Eric. "My husband normally isn't so…irate."

"Yes, well, his handshake was a bit forceful," Eric said with a frown. "I wonder why he's so upset."

Csatari snorted. "If you figure it out, let me know." She spent a few more moments conversing with the young man before Vilkas, gloom trailing him like a poisonous cloud, returned.

Placing his hand on her lower back and surprising Csatari, the companion glowered as he cut in between the red-head and his wife. "Excuse me," he muttered to the boy.

"Let's go," he whispered harshly in Csatari's ear, and she frowned, elbowing her husband in the ribs before beaming at Eric. Promising to talk to his father, she let Vilkas lead her away and once they were near the inn and away from others, she turned on him.

"What is your problem? What was that all about?"

"Did you enjoy undressing him with your eyes?" he accused.

"What?" she stood there disbelieving what she heard. "You're joking."

"I find nothing that I've said humorous in the least."

"Well, I do. You're acting crazy!" she shouted, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"Don't tell me you didn't notice the way he looked at you," he yelled, moving closer to her.

"You're losing your mind, Vilkas." She turned to walk away before turning back. "Besides, who cares? Even if he was staring at me, he was looking, not touching, and I would have never done anything. So, what's the big deal?"

"You're telling me that if I allowed it, you wouldn't have gone off with that man?" he challenged.

"That's _exactly _what I'm telling you," Csatari replied, arms crossed defensively. Vilkas glared at her incredulously, and it pushed her over the edge.

"You're an idiot if you think I'll lay with some man because of his physical appearance. You're also an idiot if you think that after one night of meeting someone that I'd sleep with them. I don't have such a relaxed attitude towards it as you do, Vilkas. Don't think _I_ didn't see women coming out of your room by the dozens. I know for a_ fact_ that you didn't even know half of their names. I don't care, though, that's your business, but I'm not the same."

With Csatari's harsh lecture, the fanatic steam drained from Vilkas's body, and his eyes gleamed with calculation. "What would it take?" he asked, staring at Csatari.

"That is an absurd question. You're my husband, and I promised to be faithful to you. I'll honor our agreement; I won't be with another."

He seemed to be pondering her words, taking another step towards her, closing the gap between them. He reached for her hands, and when he spoke, his voice was little more than a vulnerable whisper. "Would you be with me, then?"

"Vilkas," she began, staring at the ground, "I can't sleep with a man unless I love them. These things take time." She sighed, the blades of grass fascinating her. "Less than a week ago, I hated you and didn't want to be in the same room as you, and now… I, uh, well, things are different now." Csatari breathed deeply, heaving her shoulders. "I don't know if it'll ever happen between us, but I can tell you it's a possibility. Just be good to me, treat me with respect. That's all that I ask." A smile quirked the corners of Csatari's lips, and a large hand cupped her chin, tilting her head up. "You've done a good job with that so far," Csatari told him, her eyes meeting his.

"When I see the way men look at you with that hunger in their eyes, I know what they're thinking. It makes me crazed," he confessed, whispering in her ear. Csatari wanted to snort, to roll her eyes, to tell him he really was losing his mind because no one looked at her that way. She realized, however, that he was deathly serious despite how absurd it sounded.

"I'm here with _you_. Don't lose sight of that," she told him, as she felt his arm wind around her waist, his nose skimming across her cheek. Csatari became very aware of him standing so close to her, his body heat warming her skin like a gentle caress. It was particularly desirable since the afternoon was fading rapidly, the day turning from chilly to frigid.

She desperately needed a distraction. Csatari gazed up at the setting sun over his shoulder. Beautiful oranges and yellows stretched across the horizon, leaving the day behind in a blaze of glory. The sight was humbling to anyone who had eyes.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she asked and felt his head turn towards the sky. "The sun setting," she clarified. "This is my favorite part of the day." What made her blurt that out she would never know, but she guessed it was from her nervousness, her body still humming loudly from his presence.

"Why do you like it so much?" he asked, his voice husky in her ear, and she was unable to stop the shiver from running down her spine.

"The day ending is a victory to me. Every day when I look up and see it setting, it means I survived another day. Tomorrow might bring all new challenges and maybe that will be the day I don't make it, but for that moment as I watch the sun set, I can smile at my accomplishment."

She could feel him turn his gaze on her, watching her so intently, until she realized his breathing had changed, becoming more labored.

"Come on. Let's go inside. My leg is killing me," she said suddenly feeling very self-conscious at baring her soul and receiving no response.

"Alright," he said.

Csatari didn't realize his intention until far too late. Suddenly, she was scooped up in his arms, as he walked to the inn's front door.

"What are you doing? Put me down!" she shouted, horrified at the situation.

"Is this causing you pain?" he asked, concern edging his features.

"Well, no…." she stammered.

"Then there's no problem." He carried her and the bags as though it was all light as a feather. He was sure footed as he began walking up to the inn.

"You can put me down. This is unnecessary," she said, her face turning bright red.

"Relax. My first set of armor weighed more than you," he said, and as she was about to protest his comment, she saw the corner of his lip lift in a smirk.

He was teasing her?

"I'm not that light," she mumbled, embarrassed.

"You're fuller now than when you came to us. It's a good thing, you needed it. You appeared sickly before, half-starved as you were," he stated emotionless, as though simply stating an observation.

She wanted to die. The first second she could get her hands on a full length mirror, she was going to strip down and investigate his claims.

Vilkas kicked open the door of the inn, and she hid her face against his chest embarrassed by his theatrics. She could only imagine what the scene looked like, the giant's club still in her arm.

He seemed to misinterpret her move, thinking she was cuddling up to him, and he tightened his hold on her.

"A room for the night," he said, although Csatari didn't know who he was speaking to. She frowned at his words. She was going to have to talk to him about politeness. Between this inn keeper. Eric, and the farmer, he hadn't said hello once. She frowned thinking people might perceive him as rude. He wasn't, he was just….

As she tried to figure out the rest of that sentence, she was being placed down on a bed.

Once firmly resting against the bed, he placed the bags down, as she struggled to take her knapsack off. Placing the bag on the floor, he then turned to her, his eyes questioning.

She knew what he was asking, what she wanted to do next, and found herself smiling that she was able to read him for once.

"I was thinking about going out to the stream and bathing."

His brows were pulled together. "I'll come to make sure no one bothers you."

Csatari was about to roll her eyes and tell him that Eric would not seek her out, that he was being crazy, but the sudden image of some pervert trying to spy on her suddenly made the situation less humorous. "Alright," she relented.

With her bar of soap, a clean towel, and a pair of clothes in hand, she set out with Vilkas for the water, smacking his hands when he tried to lift her up again.

Vilkas stood on the water's edge, facing away from the stream.

"Shout if you need me," he said.

Csatari took her clothes off, leaving everything next to him, and with soap in hand, hobbled slowly into the water.

It was freezing cold and she couldn't help but shiver. She stood in the middle of the stream, the deepest part so that she was fully covered. She had overestimated how long she could go before healing herself. Csatari thought she could at least bathe and when dry and dressed, she could give herself another treatment. She could barely stand on the leg now, the pain was so severe.

She cursed under her breath as she stood on one foot. Csatari realized a little too late that she had underestimated just how difficult this would be between keeping herself up on one leg, fighting against the stream's current, keeping herself covered, yet revealing enough so that she could soap herself. As she took a few steps towards the stream's edge, to soap herself up more easily, she lost her balance, falling backwards into the stream, splashing about, fighting to hold on to the soap.

"Are you alright?" Vilkas asked, and before she could shout that she was fine, he had turned to look.

She saw the decision made in his eyes, and before she could hollar, "Don't you dare!" he was stripping off his armor in inhuman speed.

It was just like back in Markarth, and she was unable to peel her eyes away.

Bulmond had been physically fit; his muscles cut sharply the way a warrior's body looked. Despite being in fantastic shape, no one can escape their age forever, and Bulmond had been in his early fifties.

But, Vilkas was in his early thirties, and his body was just so… _vital._

It called to everything female inside her, as her body unable to ignore his presence, called for him. He was the hunter, and she was the prey. Csatari lay in the stream motionless, and she watched his graceful, naked body walking towards the river's edge.

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A/N: A HUGE THANKS TO LythiaAerie for her beta work on this chapter. She's an excellent writer, and I suggest everyone checking out her stories.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, subscribed, favorited, and is following this story.

Reviews=love.

I LOVE reading your comments. Seriously. Helps to tune my loser boss out.

Happy belated Valentine's Day!


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N: Warning! Smut ahead! **_

_**Thank you to the reviewers, subscribers, followers, and lurkers. You're all amazing. Love you guys.**_

_**Reviews=love =)~**_

_**Your reviews touch me deeply. I aim to make each chapter better than the last, and it's **amazing to read that you think I have achieved that goal._

_A huge thanks to my wonderful beta, LythiaAerie, especially for the pat on the back this chapter. I'm not terribly confident writing smut._

_00000…_

You hit me once.  
>I hit you back.<br>You gave a kick.  
>I gave a slap.<br>You smashed a plate  
>Over my head.<br>Then I set fire to our bed.

A kick in the teeth is good for some.  
>A kiss with a fist is better than none.<br>A-woah a kiss with a fist is better than none.

~Florence and the Machine- Kiss With A Fist

000000…

Her instincts were never wrong telling her when it was time to fight and when it was time to run. The moment she watched Vilkas take his last step before entering the water, her mind was screaming that she needed to run- to swim, crawl, limp, do whatever necessary to get away from him and this situation.

Perhaps it was the way he walked, more animal-like than man, she realized. His steps were too smooth, too graceful for a warrior, more like his animal prowling. Perhaps it was the determined stare in his icy blue eyes, unnerving even the steeliest of women. Perhaps it was the fact that despite it being frigid, the temperature was not affecting Vilkas' body in the least, his manhood in her plain view, charging towards her.

"What are you doing?" Csatari meant for the words to come out furious, but even she could hear how feeble she sounded, how arousal laced her question. Instead of sounding like she wanted him gone, it sounded as though she were begging him to come, in more ways than one.

"You need help," Vilkas stated matter-of-factly. She was ready to object, to tell him to get away.

He was next to her faster than she could open her mouth, grabbing the bar of soap out of her hand. His arms wrapped around her waist lifting her up and feeling unstable, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck for balance and support.

"Good girl," he murmured, thinking she was now going along with this crazy plan. Her protests died on her lips as the bar of soap began running over her body.

It started out innocent enough, running up her arm. Reaching her shoulder, the bar continued on to the crook of her neck. Her breathing was already heavy, but when the soap glided over her collar bone she let out a loud moan. She shut her eyes tightly, too embarrassed to look at Vilkas. Csatari couldn't help herself, her collar bone was a place that shot her blood straight down to her lower body. He didn't even freeze, didn't seem phased in the least, by her reaction. He seemed unsurprised, she thought, as though he anticipated that reaction. A part of her mind wondered if he already knew about her body, if he had discovered her quirks during their drunken romp. Or had there been more than one? She had only been thinking about the one tryst in the temple, but were there other times, and how many? Csatari couldn't even know how many times she had lain with Vilkas, and questions burned her lips in their eagerness to be asked. She needed a distraction, if only to steady her breathing.

"Vilkas, I know that we slept together in the temple. Were there other times? Do you remember?" she asked.

"If you knew the answer, would it upset you?" he asked, his voice low, his accent thick in her ear as the soap moved across her chest to the other shoulder.

The soap glided across her other collar bone and she let out another loud moan. Not missing a beat, Vilkas' steady hand moved the soap across her shoulder, down her other arm.

Even if Csatari didn't like what she heard, she would rather know the truth. "No, it won't upset me," she murmured, truthful. "I'm just curious about what happened."

"Then yes, there were other times."

Making sure she had control of her voice, she asked, "Were there many times?"

The soap stopped moving, and his hand was cupping her chin, forcing her to look at him. She realized then that their bodies were touching, skin on skin.

"You need to understand, if I had known that you wouldn't remember any of it, I would have never…" His eyes were troubled. "I would have never forced you to do anything no matter how much I wanted it."

He stared at her, his gaze intense as though his eyes alone could convey his message. "You looked the same as you do now, I couldn't have known. You walked the same, talked the same, and blushed when you were complimented. You were the same-except you smiled at me, your eyes were warm, but I thought that was because of what happened in the Temple. I thought it was because you wanted _this."_

Realization hit her like a ton of bricks and she felt the wind knocked out of her.

"You remember everything," she said in a detached voice.

"Yes." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Standing there in the chilly night, she calmly thought through what had just been said. Too deep in thought, she rested her head against Vilkas' chest. If it was because it was cold and he was so warm, or because she wanted him to brace more of her weight, she wasn't sure, but she heard his heart rapidly beating. The noise, the loud drumming sound in her ear, somehow clarified things for her.

Csatari thought of the situation from Vilkas' perspective. How strange it must have been in Markarth for her to be screaming at him. How upsetting it must have been for Csatari to snap at him, yell at him as she had for days, how rapidly her behavior must have changed. She accused Vilkas of being like fire and ice, but she must have seemed the same to him. One day laying with him, telling him they would marry, the next shouting for him to get away from her. She realized that the only way that this could have been upsetting is if he wanted her to marry him. Odd as it sounded, given the way he acted in the past towards her, it was the only logical conclusion.

"If you wanted me, why were you always so cross with me? Why did you always bring up Helgen? Why did you never attempt a civil conversation?" she asked.

Vilkas let out a frustrated groan, though she couldn't see his face. Hers was still pressed against his chest, and as the night grew colder, she didn't want to move from the source of heat.

"Because I was a fool," he said, and in a voice so low she almost missed, he added, "I should have taken his advice."

Csatari knew that there were only two men whom Vilkas would have even considered taking personal advice from- Kodlak or Farkas. Skjor seemed like an unlikely person that he would have discussed matters of the heart with.

"I know you would have never forced me, you would have seen no honor in the act. That much I know. I'm sorry if I did anything to hurt you. It was unintentional. The past is gone, so forget about it, and don't look back. I never do," she said, her words slightly muffled from her cheek pressed against his chest.

Vilkas wrapped his arm around her, holding Csatari tightly to him. "Then we won't look back," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

His heart was still beating rapidly, and she listened standing there, not knowing what else to do. The wind began blowing harder, however, and she shivered.

"Let's finish cleaning you up," Vilkas said.

"How about I-" Csatari started, but moaned loudly as the bar of soap ran over her nipple, then slid across the swell of her breast.

He was playing unfair, she thought, as his other hand was now firmly holding on to her waist. The soap ran across her other nipple, mirroring its movements from before. She realized with embarrassment that her nipples had pebbled from the soap's touch, her breathing loud and erratic.

The bar moved however sliding to her back, as it glided over her shoulder blades and moved down her side. The soap followed down and with painstaking thoroughness soaped up both of her cheeks.

She couldn't help imagining him dropping the soap into the stream, grabbing her rear firmly with both hands, and picking her up. She fantasized wrapping her legs around his body, and while he still cupped her bottom, lowered her onto his thick shaft…

Water splashed, and Csatari felt the ghost of movement on her bare legs. Glancing down, she saw Vilkas kneeling before her, a wolfish grin pulling his lips and a small part of her mind wondered when she had let go of his neck. "It's important that I'm thorough," he said.

"You're not playing fair," she breathed out, her words lost in the wind.

Csatari gasped as the bar of soap slowly slid down her belly, following the contours of her muscles, sweeping across her lower belly.

He was so damn close…

Her hands were shaking, grateful for his hand around her waist supporting her. He moved on to her thighs, starting at her hip, moving down her outer thighs in a pace so slow it was maddening. Gods, almighty she was going to melt into this water in a few moments. Making his way to her lower legs, the water preventing him from going further, he moved to her inner leg slowly gliding it along. To give him better access, Csatari parted her legs, the pain in her leg no longer existing. When he reached her knee, she realized she was breathing so loudly it drowned out the stream completely.

_Please, please, please… _

Reaching the top of her inner thigh, the bar of soap suddenly moved to her outer thigh, traveling back up to her lower belly, across her body, to the opposite leg. Starting with her hip, the bar mirrored its movements from the other leg and Csatari growled in frustration. Vilkas chuckled low and throaty, and when she looked down, he was smirking. _That bastard, _she thought. _He's enjoying this._

As the soap began moving up her inner thigh, Csatari decided to take matters into her own hands. Grabbing his hand with hers, she moved the bar to her lower region, and while keeping her hand firmly on his, she began moving the bar of soap against her folds. Having only her own hand to satisfy her the last two years, Csatari knew exactly what amount of pressure she liked and what motions stimulated her. She continued guiding the soap and his hand until she was moaning, her eyes rolling back in her head, her other hand grabbing on to his shoulder for support. Her knees were buckling, thighs shaking, that old familiar coiling feeling beginning in her lower belly.

She was so damn close….

The bar of soap was gone, as well as his hand, and as her eyes flew open in shock, she looked down to find his brows knitted together.

"Perhaps you should wash off before we…."

Her body screamed in protest, and she felt humiliated at nearly coming from a bar of soap. Her humiliation turned to anger and in that split second, she was set on revenge. Bending down, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed with all of her might. He fell backwards into the water, and she knew the only reason she was able to move him was because she had the element of surprise. She didn't care, though. He had played dirty too.

She dropped to the ground straddling him, ignoring her body's scream from the movement, or the fact that her injured knee hit the riverbed's soil.

"I think you should clean up too, honey," she said, and as she watched his eyes wide with shock, she grabbed the bar of soap from him.

That hand next went to his chest moving in a circling pattern, not missing to brush over his nipples. Her other hand, however, grabbed his penis, and with fingers wrapped firmly, began moving up and down his shaft. The water worked as a perfect lubricant, and she kept a firm grip, making sure her nails didn't dig into his skin. It had been a while since she had done this, she remembered bitterly.

It only took a few strokes before Vilkas moaned loudly, his head falling back. As she continued, her pace increased, a small part of her brain thought about just how beautiful he really looked. His black, shoulder length hair cascading down his back, his eyes closed, and his lips slightly parted. Even his thick neck muscles were standing out, straining against his position. She suddenly understood what so many women had seen in him, why they had wanted to spend the night with him. He was beautiful, almost ethereal.

Her pace continued as she slid her palm against his shaft, and she knew he was close when he suddenly grabbed her, his finger nails digging into the skin on her arms, his mouth finding her neck as he began to leave open mouth kisses down her throat.

She smiled, knowing just how fantastic this was going to play out.

A few more strokes and he was groaning loudly, his kisses more desperate and hungry. His tongue and lips felt incredible sliding against her skin, and she realized that she needed this to end soon, or her revenge wouldn't take place.

Just a few more strokes…

Her hand released his straining member, and as his eyes flew opened, rife with question.

"You should wash off now, honey," Csatari whispered, sticky sweet. "Hurts, doesn't it?" Surging up, Csatari took a step away and tossed the bar of soap at the man. "For the rest of your body."

In his gobsmacked silence, Csatari rinsed the suds from her body and stalked from the water, reaching for a towel. As she dried herself, Vilkas did nothing but stare at the woman in shock, and then averted his eyes as she pulled her clothes on, shame and hurt coloring his cheeks.

"I'll be nice and leave you the towel. Don't be long," she said spitefully.

Csatari turned and although her body was still screaming for release, and the pain in her leg nearly unbearable, she was satisfied knowing that she wasn't the only frustrated one. As she limped towards the inn, her head was held high, but she couldn't crush the image of Vilkas, stunned, as she left him in the river.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Warning! POTENTIAL TRIGGER! **

**Brief mention of child abuse.**

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, subscribed, and favorited this story. Thanks to all the lurkers too! I LOVE you guys!

Reviews=love. Nothing helps to keep away writer's block as much as knowing people are enjoying your story. I love to hear your thoughts!

A huge thank you to my beta, LythiaAerie, for editing, scene fixing, but most of all for hand holding and pats on the back.

0000000…

No light, no light in your bright blue eyes  
>I never knew daylight could be so violent<br>A revelation in the light of day  
>You can't choose what stays and what fades away<p>

And I'd do anything to make you stay  
>No light, no light<br>Tell me what you want me to say

You want a revelation,  
>You wanna get it right.<br>But, it's a conversation,  
>I just can't have tonight.<br>You want a revelation.  
>Some kind of resolution.<p>

Tell me what you want me to say.

~Florence and the Machine- No light, no light

00000…..

Csatari had forgotten just how long of a walk it was from the stream to the inn and needed to stop halfway to give herself another quick healing treatment. Feeling instant relief, she continued on, plucking some purple flowers along the way. Sniffing the petals, Csatari smiled as the aromatic smell, pure and crisp like the mountain air, surrounded her. It was excellent for calming her libido and clearing her mind of a certain naked man.

Csatari opened the door to the Frostfruit Inn and remembered that she had promised Eric that she would speak to his father. The inn was busier than before, and she realized as the sun was setting that the entire village would most likely be crowding the inn. During winter time in a farming village, there was little to do at nighttime besides drink and socialize.

Hobbling over to Eric's father, Mralki, she brought up his son in conversation. It was immediately clear just how much this man loved his son in the way he worried his lower lip as he wrung his hands together, a deep furrow between his brows. The man wasn't trying to control Eric, he was just overprotective. Love was often misguided.

"Eric is the only family I have left," Mralki said, pacing. "My wife is gone, and Eric is all I have left of her," he murmured, his wedding band glinting as his hands twisted in knots. "He looks just like her," Mralki continued, folding his arms and staring at Csatari. "I know he wants to go elsewhere, and I want to let him, but..."

So, this is what parental love and unconditional love looked like. Csatari felt her heart clench painfully. Eric had no idea what he had here in Rorikstead.

"You're doing your son no favors," Csatari replied, shaking her head at Mralki's crestfallen face.

"I know this."

"You could train him, you know," Csatari leaned on a chair, favoring her good leg. "Borrow some money, get him a set of armor. It'd give him something to do. He could get some skills, and head up to Whiterun. I'm sure he'd find something to satisfy him there.

"I'll have to think about it," Mralki said, but his eyes lit up with interest. "I'd do anything for my son." Csatari offered him a smile, and winced when pain flashed through her leg as she shifted.

"Excuse me," she murmured, nodding to the man. "I think I shall go to my rooms." As she turned away, Csatari's lips thinned as she limped to her door, hobbling it open and closing it behind her.

Yanking her boots off, Csatari stripped off her pants, tossing them on the bed along with the flowers before sitting down. Laying her leg up on the bed, she began rubbing the muscles, allowing her healing energies to work. An errant thought ran through her mind that Vilkas had been gone a while but she quickly pushed the worry away. _Vilkas, the mighty warrior is fine,_ she thought smiling.

The door opened a moment later, and she watched a stormy eyed man barge into the room. Csatari pulled a frown, pursing her lips as Vilkas stomped to a chair and threw himself in it.

"You can't knock?" she snipped, not bothering to look up.

"My apologies, although I see nothing in this room that I haven't already, wife," Vilkas replied curtly.

"That is not the point," she snapped. If he wanted to play dirty, so could she. "If you wish to see me naked, fine." Csatari rubbed her thigh, eyes firmly on her own flesh and away from the warrior. "You are my husband, after all. I do not wish for all of Rorikstead to gain a free peep, however." Vilkas grunted, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "And I do not like to be surprised by the door suddenly opening without warning," she added, licking her lips.

"It will not happen again," he replied, and she glanced up from underneath her lashes to see his face twisted in confusion. She fought against a smug smile knowing she had just won that round.

Wood scraped against wood as Vilkas had drug his chair closer to the bed, arms resting on his knees as he leaned forward.

"Do you wish to eat in the room?" he prompted, glancing at Csatari's leg. "If you are unable to move," he clarified at Csatari's raised eyebrow, "then we could just eat here."

It was a strange question, she thought, for Vilkas to ask. He had always struck her as the type of man who believed every place served a function, not to be deviated from. The dinner table was for eating, the bed was for sleeping, the wall was for fucking barmaids. He never seemed like the spontaneous type. She tossed him a suspicious look as her fingers massaged her muscle.

"No, I just need a few more minutes. I'm nearly out of magicka," she said, and he nodded, watching her hands work with curiosity.

"You are surprisingly modest for a warrior," he commented.

Csatari snorted. "When _you_ are the healer, modesty is a luxury you can hold on to. If I couldn't heal, then I have no doubt I wouldn't care."

"Were your parents healers? Normally, magic runs in the family."

"I'm out of magicka," she informed him, ignoring his question. "Let's go eat."

Puzzled at Csatari's evasion, Vilkas nodded as Csatari grabbed her pants, pulling them back on. She padded off into the tavern, not bothering to put her shoes back on. It was only a matter of time before she would need to give herself another round of healing, and she much preferred to have eaten before then. Healing was tricky business, even for her, and she felt no need to ignore mealtime.

As she sat down at a nearby table, realization dawned on her that Vilkas had actually attempted to have a conversation with her. He had seemed genuinely interested in the answer, a thought that confused and unsettled her. _He's losing his mind_, she thought. _He'll be fine once we get back home._

"What would you like to eat?" Vilkas asked, leaning over her chair.

"Whatever you're having," she replied quickly, still stuck on her previous thought.

He left, returning with two plates and two tankards. After putting the mugs down on the table, Vilkas placed her plate down in front of her, before taking his own seat. With a surprise, she realized he had just served her. Csatari looked down at the food on her plate. She looked up at Vilkas, a smile playing on her lips, her brow piqued.

"You like cottage pie?" she asked.

Vilkas placed a cloth napkin on his lap before picking up his utensils. "It was the first meal Tilma cooked for Farkas and me the day we arrived at Jorrvaskr," he answered, his voice calm.

"Oh," was all she could say, shocked that he had supplied that answer so freely. _Shit._ Did this mean she now had to tell him something in return now? What were the rules to this game?

Staring down at her food, she said, "I don't know if my parents were healers. I have no idea where the magic came from. It was discovered accidentally." Csatari picked up her knife and fork, beginning to cut up the food into manageable pieces. She risked a quick glance up at Vilkas, and found his head cocked sideways, his eyes narrowing. She quickly looked back down, focused on her food.

"How did you discover it accidentally?" he asked.

"Why were you and Farkas brought to Jorrvaskr, and how old were you? Farkas told me you grew up with the Companions, and that your father's name was Jurgen." She refused to give information without receiving.

"My brother isn't known for his brains," Vilkas said absentmindedly.

"Having a beautiful heart doesn't make your brother stupid," she snapped. "I wish there were more Farkases in the world; Skyrim would be a much better place."

He blinked, and in an emotionless tone asked, "How did you discover your magic accidentally?" She felt guilty snapping at Vilkas about his brother, and knew that her thoughtless comment must have stung more than she had intended.

"My friend was hurt, injured during a contract. Gods, there was so much blood. I thought he was going to die right there on the bedroll. I wished that I could heal him, and found myself imagining what it would look like- the blood retreating back into his body from his skin. I was picturing it while wrapping a bandage around his wound. He suddenly called my name and when I looked up, his eyes were wide. I looked down at my hands. They were glowing, and I was healing him." Csatari took another bite of her food.

"This friend…the same _friend_ that you told me about in Riften?" Vilkas asked.

Csatari swallowed hard, nodding. "Afterwards, he encouraged me to practice. Whenever we went to cities, he would pay for me to have some formal training with priestesses. He also bought healing tomes, so I could study. When he learned that I couldn't read, he taught me. He was good to me, and he didn't have to be. I'll never forget him," she said, her words breaking off to a whisper at the end. Her shaky hand grabbed the tankard of ale off the table, and she drank deeply.

"That's why you fell in love with Farkas," Vilkas stated. Csatari froze in place, staring at her husband. "Because he gave you attention, stayed with you after training, always sat next to you during dinner…that's why."

Csatari remembered how to breathe again. They weren't kidding when they said just how smart Vilkas was. She was surprised that he had pieced that together so quickly. In the future, she'd have to be more mindful of what she said to him.

"That's why every woman falls in love with a man, Vilkas. She wants to be respected, appreciated, accepted-flaws and all. To feel as though in his eyes, she is different than any other woman, special," she told him.

His face scrunched together as he continued eating in silence. Csatari returned to eating as well, trying to block the memories out of her head that had resurfaced violently, and now swimming around her in mind.

This she reminded herself was why she never thought of the past. It led to nothing but regrets and binge drinking. The two sat in silence eating, not speaking again, both lost in their own thoughts.

The inn was busier then, all of the town folk chatting amongst themselves. Someone had come in with a lute, and was beginning to pluck at the strings, tuning the instrument.

A man swayed nearby their table, and leaned over to the couple, his eyes yellowed with liquor. "Do yourself a favor, and never have children. They're good for nothing." slurring his words, Vilkas moved to escort the man away but stopped as Csatari shot him a look.

Csatari stood up, helping to steady the man. "Don't worry, I'll never be having children," she told him.

"You're a smart woman then," the man said, staggering as a young girl rushed over, tugging his shirt.

"Daddy, Sissel won't give me her toy."

Csatari let go of the man and he turned towards his daughter.

"Why are you so useless?" he asked the girl, lip curling in annoyance. "Like the rest of you lot. Get the hell away and go do whatever." He turned back to Csatari and Vilkas, taking a deep drink from his pint. The girl hovered near the drunk, big blue eyes wide.

"Daddy," she pleaded.

"Go!" he yelled, slamming his pint on the Companions' wooden table, foam jumping from the mug as it hit the surface. The girl's shoulders quivered with withheld tears, and her father raised a hand to backhand her before Vilkas stood up, catching the man's hand.

No matter where Csatari went, she never left that gods damned orphanage.

"I think you've had enough to drink," Vilkas murmured, voice even and yet terrifying with its monotone, like his wolf was bearing its flashing teeth.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" the man snarled, swaying on unsteady feet as he tried to intimidate the warrior.

"Lemkil, why don't you sit down and have a slice of bread on the house," a man called from the bar. The drunk hobbled over to the bar and climbed on to a seat, a carafe of mellow spirit laid before him. The girl had fled, and Csatari's eyes found her in a corner, coddled by a young woman who rocked her and wiped the tears away. An older sister, perhaps? A neighbor? She didn't know.

Vilkas' hand touched Csatari's arm gently. "Do you want to go eat in the room?" he asked, and Csatari nodded, picking up her half-full tankard of ale while Vilkas grabbed their food. Vilkas followed her as she walked back into the room, closing the door behind them. Csatari sat back down on the bed, ale in hand while Vilkas sat back down in the chair and offered her a plate. Shaking her head no, Vilkas laid her plate aside and finished eating in quiet while she nursed her tankard. She was grateful for the silence; frankly she didn't think she could handle more questions from the man.

Vilkas finished, placing his utensil on his plate and Csatari's ale was empty. "Would you like another?" he asked, motioning towards her empty tankard.

Csatari stood up. "I'll go get it," she said, holding her hand out to take Vilkas' plate. He seemed about to protest, so she added, "I'll go," in a voice telling him the matter wasn't up for debate. She wanted to check on the girl, make sure she was alright physically.

Vilkas handed her his plate as she left the room for the bar. Placing the dinner ware down, she asked Mralki for two more ales. Nodding, he grabbed two new tankards and began pouring the ale from the spigot.

She nodded, thanking him for giving her the better stock, as her eyes scanned the room for the little girl. She found her sitting at a table, her eyes still red and puffy from crying, marching a rag doll across the table. Her father was on the other side of the inn, listening to an animated discussion from another farmer concerning frost on the crops' harvest.

The lute player began a new song, and all it took was three chords for Csatari to know what song he was about to play.

_Gods, no, not that one._


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Warning:

**Lemons- This will be the last lemony chapter for a bit.**

**Thanks to LythiaAerie for the work done on this chapter. Busy with work and sick, she still edited this chapter. She has my deepest gratitude.**

**Reviewers,subscribers,followers, lurkers- I love you all.**

**Nothing is better than reading your reviews!**

000000….

Would you leave me,  
>If I told you what I've done?<br>And would you need me,  
>If I told you what I've become?<br>'cause it's so easy,  
>To say it to a crowd.<br>But it's so hard, my love,  
>To say it to you alone.<p>

~Florence and the Machine- No light, no light

0000….

Her hands became clammy and sweat began dripping down her forehead.

"Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart. I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes," the man's melodic voice sang and Csatari gritted her teeth, remebering why she loved drinking at the Bannered Mare; Mikael never played this song. Ever.

Grabbing both drinks off the counter, she downed one, slapping it down on the wood, and gulped the other. Throwing coin down on the table, she shook her head and started walking back to her room.

"I'm telling you that's _her_. A guard was posted out here from Whiterun yesterday. He was there at the tower and watched her kill the dragon," Csatari froze at the whisper, her eyes darting to two old women gossping.

"If _she's_ the Dragonborn, then _I'm_ the Emperor of Tamriel," a deep voice commented brusquely.

"I'm telling you, the guard recognized her. He told me she wasn't anything special to look at," the woman whispered back.

It wasn't good to be noticed, and definitely not good if word got out that the Dragonborn was loitering about. At any moment, the wrong person could hear about her whereabouts, and gods only knew what would come after her then. More assassins? Probably.

Csatari glanced towards the voices, and realized the two were farmers that she had noticed in the fields this afternoon. Csatari took in their bodies, studying muscle placement and worn home-spun clothes. They had never wielded a sword in their lives she thought, at least not enough to have formed muscles needed for hacking and slashing. They were harmless gossipers then, no potential threat.

She began hastily making her way back to the room. "I never claimed to have any kind of heart, and I'm not the Dragonborn. There's some other that's gonna pop up soon, and deal with all this shit," she muttered. "It's not me. I'm not the one. It's not me."

"With a Voice wielding power of the ancient Nord art…" the melodic voice continued.

"Do you want refills?" Mralki yelled after her, but she waved him off.

Csatari reached the door and throwing it open, ran into the room. Slamming the door closed, Vilkas looked at her surprised. She needed a distraction, and the only thing in the room was her husband.

"Talk to me about something," she instructed him while beginning to pace.

Puzzled, he asked, "What do you want to talk about?" She could still hear the lute's chords playing.

"Anything! You were so chatty before. Suddenly, you can't think up anything to ask me?" she asked, agitation driving her to pace faster.

"Hmm…" Vilkas started, and Csatari realized that at this pace the whole song would be played before he asked a single question. It was too slow for her. Csatari ran across the room, and jumped onto his lap, straddling him. His eyes widened in shock.

"You're so sexy, Vilkas," she said before planting her lips firmly against his. The words hadn't come out sounding alluring or seductive; they came out mumbled, and slightly incoherent.

"It's an end to the evil, of all Skyrim's foes." The song floated in to the room. _Would it ever be over?_ She thought. _What is he singing, the extended version?_

Csatari laced her fingers in Vilkas' hair, her body pressed against his. He let out a groan in response, and his tongue slid across her lower lip wanting access, which she granted. Csatari thought Vilkas' kisses would be like his personality, vicious and biting.

She couldn't have been more wrong. Instead they were slow and sensual, adept in a way she had never experienced before. Csatari herself, kissed in a speed much faster than his. She was forced to slow herself down to meet his pace, so that their tongues could dance together properly. It was an entirely different situation for her, one she had never had before, and her fingers began fisting his hair as she groaned into his mouth.

Whatever _this _was, she realized, suddenly wasn't enough. Vilkas' arms wrapped tightly around her, his hands splayed out on her back. But, as he continued at his thoroughly and maddeningly slow speed, impatience getting to her, she began to gently rub her lower half against his thighs. He groaned loudly, his hands sliding to her sides, bunching up her shirt in an attempt to remove it. He stilled for a moment, and pulled away. Confused, breathing erratically, she saw in his eyes the question burning there- permission to continue.

Csatari nodded her head, lifted her arms, and in one deft movement, Vilkas had slid her shirt off and was tossing it to the ground. His eyes grazed over her body appraisingly, before his eyes met hers. It was strange, she thought, despite the fact that she had seen Vilkas naked several times already and he had seen her naked. But it had been dark and the moonlight was always kind to a person's body, accentuating its more desirable features, softening its lesser qualities. But, sitting on Vilkas in their well-lit room, Csatari knew every flaw was screaming at him. Her breasts were too small, her rear sagged, there were too many scars crisscrossing her stomach and torso, and years of malnutrition had left their marks on her body- only visible underneath her clothing. No longer kissing her, Csatari was suddenly having second thoughts about the situation she had been pushing for moments before. Her eyes dropped to the floor before feeling his hand jerk her chin back up.

"Don't. You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes meeting hers.

It was a compliment that she couldn't accept because she knew it was a lie. But before she could say anything, his tongue was busying her mouth again; the words were unable to escape. She understood now just why the women kept coming back. With lines as good as that one, he'd have the wenches eating out of the palm of his hand. Every woman wanted to hear that they were beautiful, that they were perfect as is. He was good. She had to give him his due credit.

His hands were now untying the straps to her undergarment, and threw it to the ground as well. She was completely topless now, and a small part of her brain was screaming at her asking just how far she was willing to let this go. As far as she needed to she thought without going all the way. Vilkas sat back in the chair admiring her again.

"What are you doing?" she asked breathless, her blood screaming for them to keep going.

"Just enjoying this," he said, a small smile on his lips.

"Vilkas, sitting there isn't going to get us to where we want to go," she said, beginning to pull off his gauntlets. "I don't think I need to explain to _you _how this works." She grabbed his other arm, throwing the gauntlet on the floor.

"_Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes…"_ That damned song was still playing, and she needed a distraction. Wasn't this why she had started this in the first place? What was he doing?

She needed a distraction so she wouldn't think, couldn't think…

Vilkas cupped her face with both hands, forcing her to look at him. "Csatari, all of those women, they were just a distraction. They didn't mean anything," he said in a gravelly voice, his eyes staring with so many emotions, but in her current state she couldn't begin to figure them out.

"What are you going on about?" she asked, starting to come down from her high. She began to work on the straps of his armor. "Can we talk later when I'm not straddling you half-naked? We have all the time in the world. I'm not going anywhere." She began to trail kisses along his jawline.

"You're not going anywhere," he repeated in a reassuring tone, staring off into the distance.

Csatari pulled back, staring at him. "Are you alright? Listen, if this is about before, I'm sorry, but I was so close, and then you just stopped, and then I was embarrassed, and then I was angry…"

He cut her off with a wicked smile. "I never was able to finish my sentence. I was telling you to wash off, so we could continue._ I _wanted to touch you, not the soap."

"Oh," she replied, as he began trailing open mouth kisses down her neck.

"You make the most beautiful faces right before you orgasm," he murmured into her skin.

"Oh," she repeated, embarrassed, glad that he couldn't see her facial expression at that moment.

Csatari continued fumbling with the straps of his armor. She squirmed in the seat, trying to yank his breastplate off. The movement caused extra pressure on her thigh and she hissed from the pain. Vilkas wrapped his arms around her, lifting them both off the chair. He placed her down on the bed, but before he joined her, Csatari pointed to his armor. "Take it off."

With a wolfish grin, he peeled it off in moments. She'd have to study that armor to figure out how to unlatch it the quickest. _There will be other times?_ a little voice in the back of her mind asked.

"And now the undergarments," she demanded, hoping that he would remove them just as quickly.

"You're determined to get me naked," he said with that arrogance she knew. If complimenting him would get this moving along then she was all for it.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," she said while pulling her own pants and underwear off. Her comment made his brow pique with a smug smile.

"You _know_ that you're sexy. I enjoy seeing you naked and would like your body pressed against mine…._now_."

With a low throaty chuckle he laid down on top of her, holding himself off of her. _Now what is he doing?_ She thought, and wondered why he seemed to be going so slow. Csatari splayed her hands across his chest.

"Please, Vilkas, I'm begging you." To help sway him, she lifted her rear off the bed and rubbed her lower half against him. With a loud groan, he jolted into action, capturing her mouth.

"You don't play fair," he growled before nipping her ear.

Csatari was tired of waiting for Vilkas to be on the same page as her. Lowering her hand, she grasped his manhood and began sliding it in between her folds, his tip rubbing against her clitoris. He groaned loudly at the same time that she did, but she continued on.

"I never said that I did." She barely got the words out, being assaulted with ravenous kisses. They weren't faster than the others, just deeper- a dormant hunger suddenly demanding to be satiated. A hunger she admitted she didn't truly understand.

A brief thought ran through her mind that she didn't know at all what Vilkas wanted or needed. How did one go about finding that out? She tossed the question aside, her blood screaming for her to focus on her task. She had one objective at the moment, to finish what he had started in the stream.

She began increasing the speed in which he rubbed against her. But, he wasn't giving in, continuing to kiss her at the same pace, his hands bracing himself up, only his tongue and mouth touching her. It was absolutely maddening to see his control. And then she had an idea. She knew it was wrong to tease him in such a way without ever delivering. She assuaged her guilt by telling herself even though they wouldn't be having sex, she fully intended on giving him release as well. Taking his penis, Csatari lowered it to hover outside of her vagina. She rubbed his tip against her skin, so that he could feel her warmth and wetness.

"Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal*!" The farmer-cum-bard sang loudly.

Vilkas' groan was guttural, as his hands bunched the blanket beneath her, his irises turning a darker blue. Csatari tried to hide her smile, pleased that she was having her intended affect. He released her lips, now moving downwards, forcing her to release his shaft. He trailed kisses down her neck, his nose skimming across her collar bone before placing a languid kiss there. Csatari groaned out so loudly it was embarrassing, her hands now clawing at his back. Vilkas dipped lower, taking her nipple into his mouth, as her eyes rolled back. Vilkas kissed and nipped his way over to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

While his hand cupped her breast, his fingers rolling her nipple, Vilkas continued down leaving a trail of kisses down her stomach. He left out a soft sigh against her skin, causing goose bumps to appear. "I love your smell. I know it so well now," he murmured against her skin before trailing his nose down to her belly button. His tongue darted out licking her belly button. She squealed uncontrollably at the sudden unexpected motion, and a thought ran through her mind that if he could do that to her belly button, what could his tongue do to other body parts? She shivered uncontrollably at the thought, as Vilkas made his way down. Parting her thighs, he placed the lightest of kisses on her sex, and Csatari's eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

"Vilkas," she warned, "if you don't finish what you start this time, I swear…"

He looked up at her from between her legs wearing a mischievous smile. "I promise to finish," he said in a gravelly voice that was disturbingly sexy. The whole scene was she thought as he lay between her legs, looking up at her. It was a sight she decided to mentally save. She'd revisit the memory when she was alone with her own hand…

He blew gently on her clitoris causing her hips to buck wildly and for her to scream. "I think this may be a little too much for you," he murmured seductively, but before she could protest, his finger slid in her damp sex. An ungodly sound escaped her lips, and Vilkas chuckled. He worked his finger slowly inside her, his pace infuriatingly slow. She tried to move her hips, trying to force his finger to go faster, but with a firm hand, Vilkas pinned her hip down to the bed.

"Stop rushing," he instructed, and she whined in protest.

While one hand kept her still, the other worked her insides, while his thumb began circling her clitoris, rubbing ever so gently.

She was going to explode from frustration, she was positive.

"Don't be cruel, Vilkas," she breathed out, her hands grabbing his hair. Blowing on her sex again, his finger sliding against her inner walls, his thumb brushing her clitoris, he smiled.

"You're so easily excited," he said, and although his irises were darkened, they were alight. He was truly enjoying this she thought.

"Please," she begged.

"If you insist, my wife." With a mischievous grin, his finger suddenly curled inside her, rubbing against a spot that made her thighs shake and her toes began curling. A second finger joined the first, rubbing against her vaginal walls in a way that made her start seeing spots in her vision, his thumb now rubbing with increased pressure.

An intense heat began moving through her body from her head, making its way down throughout her entire body. Just as it passed through her belly, Vilkas yanked his fingers from her body.

She sat upright, her finger pointing at him. "You promised!" she screamed furiously.

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked, challenging her. Her eyes turned to slits as she was about to tell him that she would murder him.

She refused to allow Vilkas to hold her orgasm hostage, so her finger went to her clitoris, determined to finish herself off. Still wearing that cocky grin that used to grate against her nerves, he smacked her hand away. Her mouth shot open, indignantly staring, demanding an explanation. Before another word could be said, Vilkas plunged his fingers back inside her at the last minute curling, pressing against her inner wall hard.

As Csatari's head fell back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head, she let out a scream so loud, it pierced her own ears. Her eyesight fuzzed out seeing nothing but white lights, as the most intense orgasm she ever experienced wracked her body. His fingers remained where they were causing continuous waves of pleasure to assault her, sure she would never be able to catch her breath again.

"That's my good girl," Vilkas murmured, as the last wave of orgasm ended, leaving her on the bed breathless, unable to move, and every muscle in her body turning into jelly.

"Now it's your turn," she said, barely getting the words out before her eyes closed and her head slumped over on the pillow, sound asleep.

"_You'll know, You'll know the Dragonborn's come..."_

_0000…_

_*= Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray! - translation found here: .com/watch?v=UsnRQJxanVM_


	15. Chapter 15

Just keep following!  
>The heart lines on your hand!<br>Keep it up!  
>I know you can!<br>Just keep following!  
>The heart lines on your hand!<br>What a thing to do…  
>What a thing to choose…<br>But know, in some way I'm there with you.  
>Up against the wall on a Wednesday afternoon.<p>

~Florence and the Machine- Heartlines

00000….

She woke up with a heavy body on top of her, Vilkas' head on her breast, snoring, while the rest of his body was thrown across hers. She decided to lie there, not wanting to wake him up. Csatari placed her hands above her head, staring up at the ceiling, trying to wrap her head around what had happened the night before. What had possessed her to jump into his lap? Yes, she had wanted a distraction, but she had many other choices. She could have asked the bard to stop singing, even requested another song. She could have left the inn for a few minutes, taken some fresh air before returning when the song was done. Csatari knew she also could have asked Vilkas questions instead, allowing his answers to distract her. But, she hadn't made any of those choices.

She wondered if she simply craved a man's touch, if loneliness had taken its toll. It had been nearly two and a half years, and she was only a woman. Maybe she was curious about what she had been missing. Drunken Csatari had apparently slept with Vilkas several times, and sober Csatari was curious.

Or maybe she wasn't controlling the beast within as much as she'd hoped.

She frowned at the idea, unhappy that she was weaker than she believed. If that was the case, she would need to overcome her embarrassment and speak to Aela when she returned home. Failure was not an option. She just needed more information, to be better equipped. She could do this. She had to.

Csatari glanced down at the man sleeping on her, a stranger who she called husband. She wondered what it meant. Could she do this? Could she be a wife, Harbinger, and whatever else? How did one juggle it all? Most importantly, could she be _his _wife? Csatari took a moment and mourned what it all meant. To be Vilkas' wife meant the ending of all other potential roads. If something could have happened with Farkas, that door was now locked. Csatari knew that she couldn't cheat on Vilkas; she just didn't have it in her heart. He asked her to be faithful, and she would abide. But then, didn't that mean Vilkas would be the last man she was ever intimate with?

Realization dawned on her suddenly. Vilkas was the last man she would ever be with. Csatari remembered the night before, however, as a small smile crept over her face. She realized that if he was the last, she could have done worse. Man, could he kiss. His reputation was well earned.

She would try to make this marriage work- for Farkas. Because Farkas loved his brother, so would she. It didn't matter that her desires could not blossom to fruition. Vilkas was his twin. Vilkas was who Farkas had played with as a boy. She could see the two competing against each other as the years grew on, sparring with each other. When their bodies filled out and their voices lowered, the two competed for women's attention. When one fell in battle, it was the other who rescued him. The two were nearly inseparable, even Csatari knew this. It was why Csatari had been shocked that Farkas had spent such time with her in the last several months. It had also been why it had been so difficult to avoid Vilkas. Because to avoid Vilkas meant that she was forced to stay away from Farkas.

How would this work out then? If the brothers were nearly inseparable, would Vilkas accept her spending time around her brother? Csatari let out a long breath. She supposed they would figure it out in time.

A loud snore caused Csatari to look down at her sleeping husband. If Farkas was the sun shining on her face, then Vilkas was a camp fire during a snow storm. At first, Vilkas was the snow storm, icy and seemingly indifferent. She had somehow made it through the frigid weather, and now she was warming herself by the embers. It somehow made the warmth more enjoyable- she could appreciate it more after what they went through. It was also an honor, she thought. Vilkas certainly wasn't this warm to everyone. He also didn't seem unhappy about being married to her- almost as if he was content about the situation. A small voice in the back of her head warned her to be careful. If the fire went out, she'd be stuck with nothing but the snow storm again.

_What is it about him, though? _she thought. Something strange was happening when she was around him. Csatarii wasn't shy or unresponsive around him, the way she normally was around most people. He brought out thiswild animal in her. She said what she thought around him, did what she wanted. She was holding back less of her and it was so incredibly freeing. She wondered why that was.

Vilkas began stirring, groggily looking up at her. He smiled so brightly making him look a decade younger.

"Hello," he said before rubbing his eye. "You should have waked me."

Csatari shook her head. "No need." She ran a hand through his hair, "I'm sorry that I fell asleep last night. I owe you now."

His smile turned wicked with a glint in his eye. "May I have an 'I owe you'?"

"I-uh, well I suppose," she said, "I owe you that at the very least."

Vilkas placed a lazy kiss on the top of her breast. "I'll let you know when I want to use it," he murmured into her skin. Csatari chuckled nervously in response.

He turned thoughtful before he said, "We're going to make this work."

Meeting his gaze, she said, "You're right. We'll figure it out, somehow."

Vilkas lifted himself off her body, and while hovering over Csatari, placed a chaste kiss on her lips.

"I'm curious. Why are you so agreeable to making this work?" he asked, his eyes staring into hers.

She wrapped her arms around him. "In Riften, after finding out that I cared for your brother, you could have made my life miserable. You could have blackmailed me, forced me to sleep with you, done all sorts of nasty things, and I would have let you. Instead, you were reasonable. No matter what I say or do, I'll never forget that."

His eyes grew sad. "I couldn't be angry about a situation that I caused."

Perplexed, she waited for him to continue. His arms had grown tired, however, and she shifted over in the bed, motioning for him to lie down next to her. Lying on their sides, she waited for him to continue, their faces inches from each other.

"When I realized that you enjoyed Farkas' company above the others, I asked my brother to ferret out information for me."

Csatari froze in place not remembering how to breathe. She asked the first question that came to mind. "He didn't want to be my friend? It was all a ruse?" She should have known. Of course he didn't want to be her friend.

"No!" Vilkas corrected quickly. "He liked you. I mean he still does like you. It's just the questions that he asked you- many of them I wanted him to ask you. If that makes any sense."

She let out the breath she was holding. She nodded, letting him know that she did understand. It wasn't enough, however, to dissuade her that Farkas genuinely enjoyed their friendship.

"But, he began to feel uncomfortable with the situation, reporting back everything that you had told him. He asked you many questions that you avoided answering, and he felt uneasy pressing for the answers. He refused to help me anymore, and said if I wanted to talk to you, I needed to do it myself. That was two days before we took you to the Bannered Mare."

"I don't understand. Why go through all this trouble?"

His fingertips began caressing her face. "I didn't know what else to do. I had tried everything already."

Her brows nearly reached her hairline. "Except just saying hello, and trying to help me with something."

He looked down at the comforter clearly embarrassed. "Yes, well, that was next."

"This doesn't make any sense," she said, "You're a lady's man. You've charmed most of the women in Whiterun Hold."

A small smile spread across his lips. "You're not like most women, Csatari."

"Tell me something that I don't know," she muttered, knowing that she was lacking in many aspects.

"Normally, it's simple. When I see beautiful women who have many admirers, I act uninterested. Treating them poorly always cause them to take interest. With you, however, you just ignored or avoided me."

"Let me get this straight. You treat women horribly, and they love it. That's insane," she said before laughing hysterically.

"It worked flawlessly in the past…before you."

Wiping a tear from her eye, she said between laughs. "That doesn't work with me. Let's not do that in the future."

"Agreed." His fingers moved from her cheek to the back of her neck, holding her, as he closed the small space between them, kissing her. His tongue was teasing her, the tip gliding across hers. It was a kiss to solidify their conversation- turning words and thoughts into action. His tease told her of his hope for their future, for their happiness.

Csatari rubbed her nose against his as a sign of affection- an action very difficult for her. To show affection was to allow one to be vulnerable, and in Csatari's experiences, an easy way to get killed.

Vilkas let out a contented sigh, their nose and foreheads touching. Her stomach began loudly grumbling, breaking the silence in the room. Vilkas began laughing; Csatari began blushing. "Come on," he said, "Let's get you breakfast."

It was a strange thing sitting there eating eggs, ham, and warm snowberry bread. Sipping on her hot apple cider, Csatari peeked at Vilkas to find him catching her gaze, winking as a mischievous smile spread. Flustered, she stared down at her breakfast plate feeling the blush spread across her cheeks, only to hear him chuckle. This was new.

When they both finished, Csatari finally looked up. "It's time to go home."

The sadness started creeping back into his eyes, so she placed her hand on top of his. "It's where we belong- with our friends and family."

She decided now was the time to gauge his reaction towards her transformations- just one of many unspoken topics between them.

"Besides, I'd really like to go hunting with Aela."

Her statement caught his attention and he nodded briskly, understanding her meaning. He looked as though about to say something, but thought better. "Then let's get home," he said, his smile genuine.

When she went to return their plates to Mralki, she could tell there was something on his mind from the way he refused to keep eye contact.

"Would you mind getting our stuff from the room and getting the horse? I'll meet you outside." she asked.

Vilkas' eyes were curious, so she quickly added, "Want to give myself one last treatment before we ride home. Don't want to heal myself around people. You know how most feel about magic."

He accepted the lie easily, nodding, before walking back into the room and grabbing their bags. Placing a quick kiss on her forehead, he walked out of the inn.

She turned towards Mralki, her eyebrow piqued.

Drying a tankard with a towel, he said, "People were saying things about you last night."

"Were they? What were they saying?" she asked, crossing her arms defensively.

He looked to his left, then his right, before leaning in and whispering, "They said you're the Dragonborn."

"I see." She barely was able to speak the words.

"Are you?" he pressed.

"And if I was, hypothetically?" she asked.

His eyes turned thoughtful as he continued drying the washed mugs. "Then I'd say you have my sympathies. It shouldn't have happened to such a nice woman."

She was shocked that he understood, and found herself nodding- her body doing it without her consent.

"I enjoyed fighting in the war, but when it was over, I came home and started a family. I was thankful to put the stress of battle behind me. It was fun for a while, but it took its toll. To be responsible for saving the world, though? I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy."

"Please don't tell anyone," she said, "I already have assassins hunting me. I…worry about him."

Mralki nodded, understanding that she was referring to Vilkas. She realized the truth in her words. She did worry for him. He had absolutely no idea just who he had married and what shit storm he had unknowingly walked into.

"Your secret is safe with me. You're welcome back anytime."

She bowed, thanking him for his hospitality and quickly made for the exit. Walking down the steps of the Frostfruit Inn, she found Vilkas standing near the entrance with horse in hand. The little girl from the night before was standing next to him, asking a million questions.

"Wow, you look strong! I bet you can take down a bear by yourself! Is that a real sword? How many people have you killed? Your armor is interesting. Why does it have wolves on it?"

Csatari couldn't help but laugh watching Vilkas. He stood there proudly, looking down at the girl. "I can kill a bear by myself. Yes, it's a real sword- the finest steel in all of Tamriel. I've killed too many bad guys to count. I like wolves…a lot."

The girl, excited that he had answered all of her questions, continued on. "Is that woman you were with your girlfriend? I could be your girlfriend. Do you two smooch a lot? Do you like fighting? Where do you live? Can I come with you?"

"She's my wife. We smooch occasionally. Fighting keeps me fed. I live in Jorrvaskr with the mighty Companions. You don't want to come with me, trust me."

Before the girl pressed the issue, Csatari walked over, taking the bag from Vilkas. She took out part of the flowers that she had picked the night before and slid them behind the girl's ear. The girl began clapping; the rag doll that had been in her hand was flailing about in the process.

"Do you fight, too?" the girl asked Csatari, who nodded her head in response.

"Wow. You're my hero."

Sweat began dripping down the back of Csatari's neck at the girl's innocent words. "I'm not a hero. I just fight. Cause more bad than good, normally."

"I don't think so," the girl said, "I think you're my hero."

"Alright," Csatari said uneasily, "Me and your buddy over here have to get going. We'll see you again, sometime."

The girl pouted, toeing her foot in the dirt. "Fine. Bye." She turned, and ran behind the inn.

Csatari turned toward Vilkas who was eyeing her thoughtfully.

"A septim for your thoughts?" she asked playfully.

"Would you ever consider?" he began.

_Uh, Oh. _This is what she got for asking.

"Children?" she asked, finishing his question. To her horror, he nodded.

"You want children?" she asked.

"I…" he began, and after looking into her eyes, finished, "Yes."

"I'm sorry. I don't think children are in my future."

"Because you don't want any, don't think you can conceive, or don't want a child with me?"

"I don't think a woman like me should have children. I think that's best left to people who won't mess it up. So, no kids for me. I'm really sorry, Vilkas. Listen, if we wait half a year, we can go back to Maramal and tell him that I'm barren. He'll annul the marriage, I'm sure."

He looked as though she had just slapped him. "Do you want to annul the marriage? Do you regret marrying me?"

_Say yes, Csatari. Just say yes._

Here was her big chance to get out of this, to end this craziness and get on with her life. All she had to do was tell him yes.

…..

A/N:

So sorry that I'm behind in responding to reviews. Will get everyone today. Also, if I've missed one, you have my sincerest apologies. FF has been broken for the last two weeks.

To Anonymous: You're partly wrong and partly right. I can't say more than that because it will give spoilers to people who may want to be surprised. I'm glad you're enjoying.

To the requests given:

I'm working on a one-shot that covers the five lost days from Vilkas' POV. Eventually, I plan on writing a 10 chap. pre-story starting from when she came to the Companions. You'll feel less sorry for Vilkas, trust me. He's put a lot of this on himself.

Thanks a million to my beta. As with all my stories, all errors and inconsistences are my fault as author.


	16. Chapter 16

On the sea, on the sea and land over land.  
>Creeping and crawling like the sea over sand.<br>Still I follow heartlines on your hand.  
>And there's fantasy, there's fallacy, there's tumbling stone.<br>Echoes of a city that's long overgrown.  
>Your heart is the only place that I call home,<br>I cannot be returned.  
>You can…<br>I know you can…

~Florence and the Machine- Heartlines

00000…..

"Do you want to annul our marriage?" Vilkas prompted, his gaze tempestuous as he raised a hand to cup Csatari's chin. Gently, she moved from his grasp, sighing, and steeled herself for what she was about to say.

She met his eyes. "You deserve to have what you want, Vilkas. A wife that loves you, children," Csatari paused, her eyes drifting shut as she continued. "I can't give that to you. We were drunk when we got married; it's obvious that we didn't discuss the important things. I don't mind stepping aside, so you can find what you want."

"Which part can't you give me? A loving wife or children?"

"Children," she replied. "I don't think someone who lives my life has any place having children. I could die on a job; you could die on a job, and then what? Our child is sent to the orphanage? No." _Not over my dead body._

"I won't leave my life behind; you married a mercenary. This is who I am, who you are." Shaking her head, Castari paced a few moments before stopping. "It's in our blood."

He nodded thoughtfully, taking in her words before asking, "Do you regret marrying me?"

"Can you accept not having children?" she asked in return.

Vilkas' gaze dimmed, but he let a finger graze Csatari's warm cheek. "Aye."

She fought the urge to let herself lean in to the gesture. She wanted to tell him that she regretted everything, and then everything would be over. She'd be free to marry again, to pursue Farkas if that was what she wanted. But those words caught on the tip of her tongue, and for all she wanted to say them, she couldn't.

"It's not the worst thing that I've done," she whispered finally, ducking her head.

When the man spoke, his words were even, neutral. Stepping closer to his wife, he encircled her wrist in his hand. "Do you regret marrying me? Yes or no."

She swallowed hard. "No, I don't regret it."

He was still staring, however, even though she had answered him. She hadn't a clue what he was looking for. She scarcely understood the situation herself. But he found something that he liked it seemed, because suddenly that cocky grin of his was in place. Whispering in her ear, he said, "Let's go home."

Using the town's crumbled stone wall, he mounted the horse. Csatari did the same, hopping on behind him. As they began trotting out of town, Eric walked out of his house, waving to the couple, shouting his thanks. Csatari waved back, before entwining her fingers around Vilkas' body for support.

As they left town, her mind wandered to their last conversation. She felt horribly guilty about what had been said. Why hadn't she told him she regretted it? She would have been cruel to be kind. He would have gotten over their week long marriage with time once he settled down with another woman, once she was full-bellied. _Yo__u choked, that's why._

"Vilkas, do you regret marrying me, even knowing kids aren't in our future?" she asked.

"No." The answer was given without pause.

She squeezed him tighter because as strange as it was, it was oddly comforting to know that he didn't feel stuck. With one hand holding the reins, Vilkas' other hand was now resting on hers, his fingers running over hers.

They rode in companionable silence, neither feeling the need to speak. It was an enjoyable scene, the horse trotting at a leisurely pace. She knew they would be home by the afternoon. She watched the scenery around her, taking in the sparse vegetation- the only trees or plants hardy enough to survive Skyrim's winters. It was a myriad of greens, browns, and yellows as far as the eye could see. The sun was rising in the sky, warming their bodies against the chilly wind. She couldn't help but raise her head towards the sun smiling.

In the still of the late morning, she heard the roar against the babbling brook nearby. The sound was unmistakable.

"Dovahkiin…" she heard the ancient dragon's voice call, "Dovahkiin, I wish to taste your Thu'um."

First, it was cat assassins, now killer dragons hunting her down. What next? Mudcrabs on a murderous rampage?

The dragon landed in the giant's den near the road. She watched Vilkas' head turn towards the dragon. "By Ysmir, that's impressive." He looked absolutely enthralled with the sight of the mighty green skinned dragon to the left of them. She realized that this may very well be his first time ever seeing one. The giants were furious with the dragon's intrusion, however, and two of them called out to their mammoths and sabre cats that all began attacking the dragon with gusto.

"Go faster!" she shouted to Vilkas.

"Shouldn't we stop and fight it?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Trust me, go faster," she told him.

Vilkas nodded before urging the horse to quicken its pace.

"Alduin will defeat you, Dovahkiin! You may be the last, but he is the first. His Thu'um is stronger!"

The horse's stride lengthened, eating up the frozen ground below them. She knew the exact moment the dragon had been slain; however, her entire being knew it as fact. Its soul found her the same as with the first dragon, and thousands of years' worth of memories and knowledge filled her. Memories flashed through her mind of battles long ago. Csatari began to understand shouting better, even beginning to understand how to use shouts that she had never used before. Watching the memory play out of this dragon's battle with another-the one that ultimately killed him the first time around; she understood that if she relaxed her throat while shouting, it wouldn't burn as much-especially when shouting fire. The shout would also come out faster.

This dragon's memories gave meaning and explanation to the word Yol floating through her head. Before it had just been a meaningless word- like a seedling newly planted, incapable of causing harm. But, with this dragon's memories and knowledge, it now gave meaning to the word- it turned a harmless thought into a dangerous weapon for her to wield. Csatari knew that if she shouted the word Yol, fire would spring forth.

Csatari held on to Vilkas tighter as her body and mind began settling from all of its newly absorbed knowledge. She feared tonight would be like that first night after slaying the dragon at the Western Watchtower. The nightmares had been gods awful, lasting all night long. She woke up frequently with cold sweats having a strange feeling that her end was near. Perhaps it would be different this time. Perhaps that was just what happened with the first soul. Or maybe she'd run all night long under the moon and not sleep at all.

Whiterun stable was in view no more than fifteen trot steps away. She sighed with relief that she was home. Bringing the horse to a halt, Vilkas waited for Csatari to climb off first. She dismounted, landing on her good leg, and stood back waiting for him. He followed suit.

Skulvard Sable-Hilt stood up from the chair he was lounging on. The man never seemed to be doing work, she thought.

"You're three days late with board," he informed her.

She rolled her eyes, making sure he saw. "I was a week early with board last month, so technically I'm still not late."

He smiled like a little boy would who had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. "Thought maybe you'd forgotten about that."

"I never forget when coin leaves my purse. Besides, I just came back from my honeymoon. I think you could be a _little_ understanding."

"You, married?" The stable owner guffawed.

"Stranger things have happened," she informed him.

He gave her a warm smile. "Well, congratulations. Is Vilkas, here, the lucky guy?"

She nodded as Skulvard turned to her husband. "You have my condolences."

"It's unnecessary. I happily married her," Vilkas said, placing his hand out to shake the other man's hand, the two men eyeing each other up. Skulvard looked away first.

"And what about this one?" the man asked, motioning towards the horse.

"It's a long story," Csatari said, "but, she'll be staying with us for now. If you could, take the water out of her stall for now. She had a hard ride."

The man nodded to the request, walked over, taking the horse's reins.

"Let me head to Jorrvaskr and I'll be back with both their rents for the month," she informed him.

He smiled warmly at her, his eyes slowly taking in her face. "Congratulations, Csatari. Next time you're in the Bannered Mare, I'll buy you a drink to celebrate."

"I-uh..," Csatari glanced over at Vilkas to see his jaw clenched tight. "My husband and I'd love to go out for drinks with you sometime. He will come by with the rent in a few minutes." She finished, seeing the stable owner's face drop. Vilkas with their bag of valuables in hand threw the sack over his shoulder and walked over to Csatari, placing his hand on her lower back.

"Alright, see you later," she said quickly before turning for the door.

Outside the stable, Vilkas commented, "I thought you were out of money. How will you pay their rents?"

"I'm not out of money. I just didn't have any more gold on me. I have my 'to pay monthly expenses' stash, my emergency stash, my 'you're really in trouble stash', and then my 'if you're using this, then you're fucked' stash." After another moment, she said, "I suppose I should show you where all of those are located."

"You'll have to if I'm to pay the man…according to you." A quick glance told her that he was fighting a smile.

"Was that right of me to say? I dunno, something weird was happening back there," Csatari admitted.

He stopped walking, turning towards her, forcing her to stop in her tracks as well. "Is this an act with you, or are you really this naïve?" he asked.

She bristled against his words and fought the urge to slap him. "I am not stupid." She pointed her finger, shoving it in his face as she spoke.

She began to walk away as he grabbed her shoulders, stopping her. "I didn't say you were. But, do you not understand that he propositioned you?"

She scrunched her face, mulling his words over in her mind. "He wanted sex?"

"At the very least, yes. That's what he was saying when he wanted to buy _you _a drink, not us. Your response told him that you were uninterested." Oh. Well, that certainly explained a lot.

"Is that why he was always trying to buy me drinks in the Bannered Mare?"

He fought another smile. "Let me guess, you refused him."

"Of course, I did," she said as she began walking again. "I never want to be indebted to another. If what you said was true, I'm especially glad I refused him. I'm no prostitute. Sorry, but I see being given drinks and giving sex in return a form of business transaction," she explained. She heard him covering laughs in the form of coughs.

They walked through the city of Whiterun, Adrianne Avenicci stopping her work to wave. Csatari waved back as the woman shouted, "Congratulations! I'm sorry we couldn't make the wedding! Come by later. We have a wedding gift for you."

She nodded stiffly before turning to Vilkas awaiting answers. He was purposely staring straight ahead, a small smile tugging at his lips. Before she could even ask him a question, gossipers began whispering.

"I can't believe he's off the market. So what she killed a dragon? She's not even pretty."

"I know. I don't get it. He's bed women prettier than her. She looks like a bloody dragon!" The two women began laughing.

"Let's not worry about it. He'll get bored of her quickly and move on," the first woman said.

"I hope so," the second one said, "he's bloody fantastic in bed."

She felt Vilkas stiffen at her side, and turned towards the voices. Two women stood there, one Csatari recognized as a bar wench that occasionally worked at the Bannered Mare on crowded nights. The other Csatari had never noticed before. She couldn't see what Vilkas was doing, but suddenly the women were taken aback.

"It's amazing what some women will delude themselves into thinking," Csatari heard Vilkas say.

The two women's eyes widened before they scampered off, running behind a house.

Shocked at the scene, she barely noticed Mila Valentino running up to her. "Hey! Do you have anything for me?" she asked.

"I do," Csatari said, stopping to take the rest of the purple flowers out of her knapsack. She slid them behind Mila's hair just as she had done with the girl in Rorikstead.

"I was thinking of you when I picked them," Csatari said to see the girl beam with excitement.

"Mommy, look what I have!" the girl shouted, running back towards her mother's stall.

Carlotta looked up from finalizing a sale with a young man. Seeing Csatari, the woman smiled. Mila was already at her mother's side, yanking on her dress. "Look what Csatari gave me! She picked them just for me!"

Mother smiled down at daughter. "Pretty flowers for a pretty girl."

Carlotta looked up at Csatari and walked over to her. Whispering in her ear, she said, "I put aside Jorrvaskr's fruits and vegetables for the week." Carlotta pointed to crates behind the stall. "The best that came in."

"Thanks," Csatari said, "I'll have someone pick it up with the money shortly."

Carlotta nodded before finishing, "Congratulations on the wedding. I put a small sack of sweet rolls in there for you. Baked them myself."

Csatari began salivating at the thought of those delicious treats. She'd have to hide them from Vilkas, though. Wouldn't want him claiming they could be poisoned.

Saying good-bye to her friend, she began walking up the steps towards the Wind District. Vilkas placed his hand on her shoulder, and she turned towards him. He was looking at her curiously as he asked, "Do you have some kind of deal with Carlotta? Is that why our food has been fresher lately?"

Csatari blushed realizing he didn't know. "Sort of," she admitted. "Someone was pestering her, saying really crude things about her. I put him back in his place. "

She thought back in fondness at punching Mikael. It had been an enjoyable fight. For good measure, she had made him promise never to sing the Dragonborn song. He had been warned that if he ever accepted the request, she'd cut his nuts off. He had eagerly agreed, afraid she'd punch him again.

"Mila was also really sick one day. Carlotta needed to work, so I watched her for the day. No big deal. She sets aside the best produce for us now."

"You're incredible," he said.

Csatari wasn't one for reading social situations, but by the look on his face, she swore he was about to kiss her right there in the middle of the city's bustling market district.

"Vilkas!" a woman shouted. They both turned towards the voice. Csatari cringed inwardly. Olfina Gray-Mane was waving her hand, running towards them. The woman had silvery, long, flowing locks, breasts that nearly hit her chin they were so perky, and legs that reached Falkreath from where she was standing. She was the kind of woman Csatari saw come out of Farkas' room in the morning. Csatari wondered if the woman could slay a troll while whistling a tune perfectly and not have a single hair out of place afterwards.

Honestly, the woman was a nightmare.

"Vilkas," she said not even greeting Csatari. The woman stood far too close to Vilkas as she whispered something in his ear. Her hand was pressed on his chest plate, as he listened intently, nodding to whatever she was saying. Csatari decided that for this woman's safety, she would not listen in to the conversation. An idle thought ran through her mind, however, wondering if she could get away with the crime being the Thane of Whiterun- like a free pass. The thought made her smile momentarily.

Disgusted, Csatari walked away, passing the blossomed Gildergreen tree (which _she_ restored, not Olfina), and made her way up the steps to Jorrvaskr with her head held high. The rational side of her brain told her that she didn't have a right to be angry. She had told him that he could do whatever he wanted with whomever. She just didn't want it shoved in her face, she supposed. It was a marriage for show, she reminded herself. Do what he asks of you and you'll have peace.

But, she couldn't escape the image of Olfina Long-Legs whispering sweet nothings in his ear, leaning in, her hand on his chest…

F_uck 'em all._

Opening the doors to her home, she walked in. The normal sights and sounds warmed her- the crackling sound of the firewood being consumed in the cooking pit, the smell of leather, sweat, steel, and oil, the sound of fists connecting with skin.

She looked up to see Athis and Njada at it again, the two circling the table, throwing punches and insults.

"There you are!"

Before looking, she knew exactly who spoke. She turned towards her personal sun, watching him stride towards her with outstretched arms.

"Farkas," she called out, unable to stop herself from smiling.

000000…..

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing, reading, subscribing, adding this story as a favorite. I'm so glad that you're enjoying it.

Oh, btw…in case you're wondering, this story is already worked out. I know what's going to happen. The ending is set in stone.

A huge thanks to my amazing beta, LythiaAeria, for her work on this chapter. She did an incredible job as always.

Will get to everyone's reviews tonight, I swear! Just thought you'd rather have the next chapter out first ;)~

To Anonymous: I'm not sure if that was sarcasm or not- if last chapter did in fact clear things up for you. I hope it did. If not, you have my sincerest apologies.

To those of you interested:

I have already posted the very beginning of Vilkas and Csatari's 5 day wild spree. It will be very HEAVY on the M rating. Smut, smut, and more smut ahead! Oh, and some werewolf love.

For those not interested in reading it, don't worry. It is not necessary to read the story to understand The Wrong Husband. It's just a little something extra.

Also, I will post a several chapter story this week about Csatari's conception, how she became an orphan, and a little of Csatari's childhood. I give the warning now. It will not be humorous. It will also not be necessary to read for this story, but an OC will appear later on in The Wrong Husband briefly (Csatari's uncle) that will be in the short novella.


	17. Chapter 17

Hey baby, there ain't no easy way out  
>Hey I will stand my ground<br>And I won't back down

Well I know what's right, I got just one life  
>In a world that keeps on pushin' me around<br>But I'll stand my ground and I won't back down  
>~Tom Petty- I Won't Back Down<p>

00000….

Farkas barreled towards Csatari, grabbing her in a bear hug, picking her up off the ground, spinning her. His enthusiasm was infectious, but if Vilkas saw this… She didn't even want to think about his reaction.

Farkas finally placed her back on the ground, and Csatari took several steps backwards.

"Look at you being all… _touchy_," Csatari said nervously.

Farkas barked out a laugh. "I'm just glad that you're back. It's been so boring around here without you and Vilkas. I'm happy you're both home safe."

The relief in his eyes was evident, and Csatari felt a little guilty keeping Vilkas away from his brother for so long. She knew from her talks with Farkas that the two had never spent more than two days apart from each other. When she asked why, he shrugged.

"Kodlak said, 'We display normal behavior for twins.' I think it's true because Kodlak's smart." Csatari thought that there was something to it as well. The twins' bedrooms were opposite each other. They were always within eyesight or earshot of each other at all times.

"I'm glad to be home too. There's nowhere like here," Csatari said before adding, "Is Aela around? If she is, would you two mind meeting me in the Underforge?"

His head cocked sideways questioning her, but his eyes maintained their patience- as if he wasn't told the answer immediately, he wouldn't explode.

So like his brother, yet so very different.

"It's important," Csatari answered, "I'd rather not wait." Farkas nodded, accepting her answer and began walking downstairs to their quarters.

"You hit like a little bitch!" Njada screamed, her right uppercut connecting with Athis' jaw. He stumbled back momentarily before growling, rushing her, grabbing her at the waist and slamming her to the ground. Brill and Vignar watched on disinterestedly.

"Is it chilly in here? Should I put more logs in the fire?" Tilma asked, shifting her broom from one hand to the other.

Csatari smiled affectionately. "Take a seat; I'll take care of it." At the woman's feeble protests, Csatari added, "I've been sitting for hours. I need to work."

Csatari walked over to the wood pile, picking up four logs, placing them in the fire pit vertically, causing them to burn slower.

"Do you yield?" Athis shouted, straddling Njada.

"Never!" she shouted, and with a quick chopping motion to his shoulder, Athis was now lying on the ground, moaning in pain.

"Ha!" Njada shouted, taking the advantage, jumping on top of Athis.

Injured, Athis still grabbed her hands trying to pin her, the two tumbling around on the ground, neither one getting the upper hand until Athis slammed Njada's back into the leg of the dining table.

"Oh, dear," Tilma said, her hand to her forehead in worry, "Watch the fire pit."

"Guys," Csatari shouted, trying to separate the two. "Guys!"

Athis swung a punch and Njada ducked at the last moment, the punch connecting with Casatari's injured leg. She howled in pain before kicking Athis viciously in the back with her good leg.

"Enough!" Csatari shouted. The two looked up at her, both frozen. "The fire," Csatari explained.

The two brawlers glanced up, realizing Athis' pony tail was inches from the fire. The two disentangled, standing up.

"Set yourselves on fire outside," Csatari told the two.

"Harbinger," the two said at the same time, bowing their heads. Csatari sighed in frustration knowing these two would never call her by her first name no matter how much trouble they gave her.

The two glanced at each other, smiling at the same time before they both punched Csatari playfully in her arms simultaneously. "Glad you're back from your love fest," Njada teased.

"Yeah, it's been boring around here without someone to pick on," Athis added.

Csatari rolled her eyes at the two, rubbing her right arm, the one Njada punched. Her surname Stone-Fist was exceptionally fitting.

Aela walked up the stairs at that moment with her normal grace, Farkas right behind.

Still rubbing her shoulder, Csatari said to Athis, "When Vilkas arrives, tell him that the Circle is meeting in the Underforge."

With a clenched jaw, still bitterly jealous that he was not a member, he nodded, accepting the order.

Torvar stumbled up the stairs, falling over himself, shouting, "Look who's back!" He glanced around the room at the other members, "Now that she's home, we're partying tonight, right?"

They all rolled their eyes at once, clearly irritated. "Good job ruining the surprise," Farkas said, both Aela and him standing near the door.

"Wait, she wasn't supposed to know?" Torvar asked, confused.

"That's what a surprise party is, you idiot," Aela snapped.

Csatari, realizing what was happening, silently thanked Torvar's drunkenness and loose lips. Surprises were not her thing.

"Let's go," Csatari said, addressing the two Circle members. The three walked out together, touching their hand to the stone, its magic sensing the beast blood running through them, the stone door sliding ajar. They walked in to the stony, cold room, the door closing behind them.

"Shouldn't we wait for Vilkas?" Farkas asked.

"He's busy speaking with someone. I can catch him up later. He already knows what I'm about to say."

"Harbinger, "Aela started, "I just wanted to say that it's good to have you home."

"It's good to be home." Csatari responded before adding, "Later, I'd like to speak to you in private."

Aela agreed to the request and Csatari began, the two standing around her.

"While Vilkas and I were traveling, a Dark Brotherhood assassin came after me."

Both were alarmed at the news.

"Are you sure they were after you?" Aela asked.

"Yes, we yanked the assassin's contract from its corpse. Listen, honestly, I'm not worried. But, I'm letting you know because I want us to be extra careful, notice anyone strange lurking around Whiterun. I don't want another situation like we had with the Silver Hand, and I'm certainly not willing for anyone else to take my hit."

Both wore various looks of concern. "Who ordered the hit?" Farkas asked, asking the question as casually as he would ask what was for dinner.

"Don't know," Csatari answered.

"Who would want you dead?" Aela asked.

Csatari scrambled to think of a quick lie. "I'm the first female Harbinger in how many years? 175 or so, Vignar said. I'm sure that alone pisses someone off."

Aela's teeth gritted, thinking Csatari's words over. "If they want you, they'll have to come through me."

"No," Csatari said quickly. "This is what I don't want. No one will die for me. Hopefully, nothing will come of this, and it'll go away. If not, then we'll see. Before I do anything, I'll let the Circle know, of course."

Aela's honey eyes lit up with the hope of future bloodshed. Only the Companions would be excited about battle with an assassin's guild.

"What are you thinking?" Aela asked, not able to hide her smile.

Csatari shrugged. "We'll see."

The stone door slid open, Vilkas striding in. "Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked, mildly irritated.

Csatari forced her jaw to unclench. "You were busy. I've said nothing that you don't already know."

"And now I'm behind," he argued.

"Then I'll fill you in during dinner, _dear_," she spat through gritted teeth.

"I'd rather be told now, _wife_," he shot back.

"Farkas, would you mind filling your brother in?" Csatari asked.

While Farkas spoke, Csatari closed her eyes, counted to ten, tapping her foot, trying to calm down. They hadn't been home an hour and already he was making her blood boil. She would also talk to him about how he spoke to her around the other Companions.

Farkas and Aela both watched the exchange curiously, but did not respond.

When Vilkas was caught up to speed, he added, "I think Arnbjorn is in on this."

"Why after so many years?" Farkas asked.

"I don't know," Vikas replied, "It just feels that way."

"Who's Arn whoever?" Csatari asked.

"Arnbjorn is an ex-Companion, former Circle member, still a werewolf, and last we heard is married to the Dark Brotherhood's leader."

"And you just think to tell me this now? You knew all of those days! What if something had happened to them while we were gone? Gods damn it, Vilkas!" she shouted, beginning to pace.

"In the future, I'd like to know about all former Companion members who may have a grudge, especially the ones who know the layout of Jorrvaskr intimately."

His hands were folded over his chest. "You act as though they can't protect themselves."

She rushed up to him, pointing her finger in his face. "Don't give me that crap! You and I know even the mightiest of warriors fall. If something happened to any of them, if they took a sword meant for me like that driver, I'd…" She shut her eyes, shaking her head, trying to clear her mind of the image.

His hand cupped her chin forcing their eyes to meet. "It was not your fault."

"It doesn't make me feel less guilty," she said, all the heat gone, her voice a loud whisper.

"It'll be alright. You made the right choice warning them."

She had to force herself not to lean into his hand, to accept his words and touch, before fury burned through her. How dare he touch her!

She slapped his hand away, pointing her finger as a warning before walking away. Now standing in her previous spot, she asked, "Is there any other business that needs to be discussed?"

"Harbinger," Aela stepped forward. "I believe I've found an item's location that will allow the Circle to be stronger wolves."

Farkas and Vilkas both stepped forward simultaneously, but Csatari cut in before there was a fight. "Are you sure it's there, or is it a hunch?"

Both brothers turned towards her, shocked.

"My contacts say it's there. They've never been wrong before. It would be my honor if you joined me."

"Could we wait a few days? I broke my leg against a giant. I would be useless to you in a fight right now."

Aela seemed to mull her words over before saying, "Then we'll wait."

Csatari knew the time had come for this discussion, to talk of the rift in the Circle. She wondered which way was the best to bring this up without ruffling feathers. There was no way, she realized because they all saw this as a matter of taking sides. She ran her hand through her hair.

"This needs to end now, because I _need_ you all working together. Farkas and Vilkas, you need to get over that Aela enjoys being a wolf. Aela you need to accept that the brothers may choose Kodlak's route and cure their lycanthropy. I need a functioning Circle to help me. I'm not Kodlak, and I never will be. I need all three of you. So, figure out your issues and get over them. Skjor and Kodlak are dead, but we're still alive. Remember that."

"Will you cure yourself?" Vilkas asked.

"No, not for now. I will remain a werewolf. But…I do need help controlling it."

Aela was the most understanding. "You have it the hardest. The beast in you fights for dominance the most. None of us know why, including Kodlak. If you wish, I'll work with you."

"Thank you," Csatari said before turning towards the brothers who were now standing side by side. "As for you, twins, if you wish to cure yourself, let me know. The witches' heads are in the trunk above my armoire. I have a key, and so does Tilma. I'm telling you this because even though they're in my room, they belong to the Circle. Whatever you two decide, I'll support you."

Csatari then turned towards Aela. "I also don't want you to think anything will change because I married Vilkas. There'll be no special treatment." _Definitely no special treatment for him._

But Aela smiled smugly, "We women know how to keep our wits, while the men rule with their hearts.

Csatari bit back a smile, knowing any answer would probably land her in hot water.

"Alright, anything else that needs to be discussed immediately?" she asked.

The three murmured no, so she asked Farkas, "Would you mind picking up our food from Carlotta? Tilma has the money."

"No," Aela said, "You have to sign off on the slip first."

_Damnit._

Normally, Tilma would look through this paperwork the night before.

"Farkas, please ask Tilma to sign the slip for me." There was no use denying it, or owning up to her illiteracy. They had all been at the wedding, they all knew.

"I'll look it over," Vilkas said, "And I'll sign it." He strutted over to her, and she did as well, the two eyeing each other up.

"Fine, Vilkas, would you mind going with your brother and taking care of this?" Csatari asked in the most polite voice she could muster at the moment.

"I don't want you asking Tilma for help anymore," he said.

"I didn't just give her extra work. I paid her from my own pocket very generously, might I add." She tried to keep the heat out of her words, but realized she had failed horribly.

"Still," he murmured, closing the space between them, his hand running down her arm. "I'd rather _us_ go over the papers _together_."

"Alright, fine."

Csatari then turned, addressing Aela and Farkas. "Do you two mind Vilkas reading the paperwork with me?" Both shook their heads, so she turned back towards her husband whose hand was still running the length of her arm. "In my chest at the foot of my bed is a coin purse. The money is in there for the horses." Vilkas nodded, taking a step closer to her, as she took a step back.

Farkas was already at the exit, his hand placed on the door to leave. He turned towards his twin, waiting for him. Vilkas sighed, walking away towards the door.

"Brother," Farkas said. The two clasped hands, leaning in for a pseudo-hug, their shoulders briefly touching.

As soon as the door slid shut, Aela glided towards Csatari predatorily. "What do you need help with?"

"Well," Csatari began scratching her head. "Is it normal as a werewolf to have…you know, _urges_?"

"Don't all people have urges?"

"No," Csatari clarified, "I mean _strong_ urges, very strong."

Aela chuckled. "Ah, that explains what happened in Riften."

"What happened in Riften?"

"You remember, you were there."

"Er, pretend I wasn't. Tell me it from your perspective."

Aela stood next to Csatari with hands on her hips. "Well, after the ceremony, Vilkas kissed you. You sort of grabbed him, and the two of you stumbled out of the church. A guardsman finally broke you two apart when you began unstrapping Vilkas' armor in the middle of the market place. The rest of the night went the same. You tortured him all night long, teasing him."

Csatari's mouth hung open, unable to speak.

"The ear to ear grin on his face told me he didn't mind. Eventually, he couldn't take anymore and carried you upstairs."

"I, uh, oh, sorry," she said feeling that she had been rude to her friends who came all the way to their wedding.

"It's alright. I'm glad to see Vilkas content. I never saw him smile that much in my life. You make him very happy, you know."

Csatari was caught off guard, not knowing what to say. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Was our wedding nice? Did he seem happy?"

"You were there…"

"I, uh, when I fought the giant I was hit pretty hard. Last week's memories are a blur," she said.

Aela seemed taken aback. "That must have been some hit."

"You have no idea," Csatari muttered.

"In that case, yes, he was very happy."

"Well, that's good then, that's very good," Csatari murmured, unable to define the strange mixture of emotions swirling around inside her.

Aela's head cocked sideways. "You do know that he loves you, right? He has for a while now."

Csatari's reaction was instantaneous as she began sweating profusely. "He does not!" she shouted in protest, walking backwards towards the door. She wasn't able to take in enough air, the stone room closing in on her. She would be suffocated or crushed to death, she was sure. "I have to go."

The words barely tumbled out before the stone door parted for her, the rush of outside air entering the stone chamber as she made her way to Jorrvaskr's door to hide like the coward she was.

Inside the mead hall, Farkas upon seeing Csatari threw a sack at her. "Carlotta said that these were yours."

With her prize now in hand, she clutched the sack covetously as she made her way downstairs. She closed the door to her bedroom, glancing around. Everything was as it should be. Csatari jumped on to the bed, opening the sack, taking out her joyous prize. She sat back, her head resting against the ornately carved wooden headboard. She began licking the icing off first- the first step in the process. Able to forget all of her worries, her fear, she turned the sweet roll over, now eating the crusty bottom. By the time she finished, moving on to finish the treat, she instinctively felt a presence nearby. Looking up, she found Vilkas standing in the doorway watching intently.

"Seriously, you can't knock?"

"I knew you wouldn't open if I did," he said, entering the room, sitting down on the bed.

She gave him a dirty look, before returning to her sweet. He was staring at her intently, and she realized with surprise that his eyes were darkening.

"I can't eat this with you staring at me."

He stood up, grabbing a book off the shelf, sitting back down, opening it, flipping through the pages, and eyeing her sideways. Try as she might to stay angry, she couldn't help laughing. Csatari finished the treat, licking her fingers clean.

He closed the book, tossing it aside, his eyes still dark, before sliding towards her on the bed. She held a finger up to stop him, realizing his intentions. "I'm mad at you." She felt proud of herself conveying her emotions in a semi-articulate fashion. This was a step up for her.

Vilkas sat back down. "I gathered that."

"Listen, I told you that you can sleep with whomever." _And now I can't take it back._ "But, it's disrespectful to flaunt it in my face. For sake of appearances, keep the affairs discrete, and DO NOT bring some trollop here to our home." _Or I will kill her first, so you know that you're next._

Vilkas seemed thoroughly amused by her words. "What brought this on?"

"That woman," Csatari shouted before composing herself, taking a deep breath. "Olfina Gray-Mane. She came over, didn't say hello to me, and pressed herself against you, whispering in your ear. You did nothing to change the situation."

His smile was wider, and it felt like a slap in the face. She stood up, forcing more distance between them. "I'm glad you find this so humorous."

He stood up walking over to her, his hand attempting to entwine around her waist. She slapped his hand away hard.

"No!"

"You are the most infuriating woman _ever_."

He tried to touch her again, but she punched his arm this time. "I'm warning you!"

He let out a low, frustrated growl, and she returned the call with a menacing one.

"Csatari," he said, trying to cup her face.

"That's it!"

She swung her good foot out, taking him by surprise, knocking him off balance. As Vilkas fell backwards, Csatari jumped on top of him, both tumbling to the ground.

000…

A/N:

Gah! I'm so sorry for being behind on PM's. I'll get to everyone's tonight.

To Anonymous: I'm so glad the chapter cleared things up. Thanks for the awesome review on Sanguine's Influence as well.

As far as Csatari's conception story, sorry it wasn't posted this week. I'm super behind. The first chapter is in pieces on my comp. Maybe this week?

Also, a few reviewers have asked for a one-shot about Csatari and Vilkas' first encounters together. How about a 10 chapter ficlet from his POV? LOL. The chapters are outlined on my comp. Soon, I promise.

A special thanks to LythiaAerie for her amazing beta work. This chapter is actually twice as long as others, so she did double editing job.

Thanks to the reviewers, readers, and subscribers.

I love hearing your thoughts. =)~


	18. Chapter 18

You said guys come on too strong girl  
>They want you in their life as a wife<br>That's why you wanna have no sex  
>Why you wanna protest, why you wanna fight for your right<br>Know things get hard  
>But girl you got it, girl you got it there you go<br>Can't you tell at how they're looking at you everywhere you go  
>Wondering what's on your mind, it must be hard to be that fine, when all these mutha... wanna waste your time<br>It's just amazing, girl, and all I can say is...  
>I'm so proud of you<p>

~Drake- Proud Of You

The two struggled for hours neither able to get the upper hand. Csatari had to admit he was freakishly strong, but she was faster. Every time his hands wrapped around her wrists she was out of his hold before he realized. Csatari also had no problem fighting dirty. When the two needed a break they would call truce, and the two laid there on the ground side by side, panting until they were ready to start again. They had just come off another break and Vilkas was attempting to put her in a headlock, which she slipped out of last minute.

"Will you stop this any time soon?" he growled the words.

"Sure," she said, "After I kick your ass."

"What is your problem?" Before she could open her mouth, he added, "With me exactly?"

"You insulted and embarrassed me. I haven't done that to you." She thought back to Riften, however, and the nasty things she said to him. "Since we left Riften," she amended, "I haven't insulted you around others."

"So, all you care about is appearance?" he asked, his words heated.

"No," she snapped, trying to explain how she felt watching _that_ woman and him. "It…felt wrong. There's no reason that a married man should have a_ single _woman pressed upon him. If she needs to tell you something so terribly secretive that she's afraid another will hear, then she can write you a note."

His smile was wide, as his eyes darkened. "Jealousy looks _very _sexy on you."

"I'm not jealous!" she shouted. He was being _absurd._ "When you act like that, you make me look weak- like I'm not womanly enough to keep you from roaming. When I look weak, we, the Companions, look weak."

He frowned. "Why can't you just admit that you're jealous? Why can't you just say you want me for yourself?"

"I've never been jealous in my life. I-," she took a deep breath. "Don't know what I feel." She sat back down on the ground, running a hand through her hair. "I can't put restrictions on you now, after giving you freedom. I need to deal with what I've said."

Vilkas' head fell back laughing. "You can say whatever you want. You're my wife. Women are prone to changing their mind frequently anyways." 

"You're not helping the situation," she snapped.

He sighed, and she realized with surprise that Vilkas had different sighs. This one was frustration. "Do you want me to only be with you?" he asked.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Yes, but it's unfair because I don't know when I'll be comfortable for us to you know…"

"After our night in Rorikstead, you're still unsure?" he asked, a teasing look in his eyes.

"Sex is different. You don't understand. That's a lot of power to give to someone else. It's just different where I come from." She ran her hand back through her hair, unused to discussing her feelings. "Listen, it's not you, it's me. I'm just fucked up. You've been pretty great dealing with me actually. I'm not good with this- with relationships. I never have been."

He seemed genuinely interested in her confession, his eyes intently staring at hers. "You said you were in a relationship before however…" he prompted, and she could tell he was trying to squeeze information out of her.

"Yes, but that was different. It was a different situation, complicated. I wasn't good at it, either."

"Why was it different?" he pressed as he leaned against the bed.

She chuckled nervously, she in turn rested against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees. "Are you sure that you want to hear this?"

"Yes." He answered without thinking.

"Bulmond was much older than me. Much older. People actually mistook me for his daughter."

There was very little reaction from Vilkas, however. "That didn't bother you- the age difference?"

"No, it didn't bother me. I didn't sit there thinking about him as a fifty something year old man. I thought about him as the man who I was comfortable with, a man I cared about. It didn't concern me what others thought. He cared though, _a lot_. Whenever we went to cities, he would never touch me affectionately, concerned with what others would say. That always really bothered me. Not that I cared that he didn't touch me, I'm not into public affection, but it bothered me that it bothered him." She realized all that she had just said and wondered what in Oblivion was making her confess these secrets.

"He never proposed to you? Never offered marriage?" he asked.

"Bulmond lost his wife a few years before we met. He didn't talk about her much, but he loved her. He wore his wedding band still. He never offered marriage, but he was saving up to buy a farm. He wanted me to come, and I agreed. The job that he died on, it was going to be his last job. I didn't need a ring on my finger, though. What he gave me, it was enough."

"You deserved more," he said. Surprised, she realized he looked furious.

"What is wrong with you?" she snapped. "I finally tell you things that I've never told anyone. Instead of just accepting the information, you have to be angry and make me regret saying anything. You're fucked up!" she shouted, standing up. "We're done here."

Csatari strode towards the door, leaving him sitting there, furious at herself for being so stupid.

She was at the door frame before he grabbed her, whirling her around. She lifted her hand to slap him, only to be met with the saddest eyes she had ever seen. Puppy eyes, she thought. Vilkas pulled her into his embrace, hugging her tightly, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but you deserved more. You deserve _everything_."

His words disarmed her, or maybe it was the way he said them, his accent thick, his tone soft like a caress. She wrapped her arms around him. "Just relax. It's in the past. But, I'm not good at this relationship thing, so if I'm missing something obvious, or doing something wrong, you have to tell me. I'm not a mind reader."

He squeezed her tighter, nodding. Lifting his head, he captured her lips, shoving her roughly against the wall. She was about to protest, but he began kissing her with the intensity she normally saw in his eyes now channeled into his movements, and she forgot what she was supposed to be fighting against.

Her hands tangled in his hair pulling him closer, as his body pressed against hers. A loud coughing sound was heard and at first it didn't register in her mind, until she heard it again.

Csatari pulled away and while looking over Vilkas' shoulder, her face dropped.

"Farkas."

Vilkas turned towards his brother, but didn't let her go.

"Dinner's ready, and Lydia is upstairs looking for you," said Farkas.

Wiping her mouth, she slid out of Vilkas' embrace.

"Thanks," she said, not quite able to meet his eyes. Why, she wasn't sure. Did she feel embarrassed that she was caught kissing Vilkas? A little. But, there was something else, she realized. She felt guilty as though she was somehow cheating on Farkas with Vilkas, which was ridiculous she realized. She headed for the stairs, trying not to run.

0000….

Walking upstairs, her stomach rumbled at the smell of potato and beef soup, venison, roasted pig, and fresh baked apple pie. Lydia stood by the door in her normal posture. That was to say she stood ramrod straight, her hands behind her back, staring straight ahead.

"Hi, Lydia. I was planning to see you after dinner."

"An honor, my Thane," she greeted, her posture not relaxing. Csatari sighed. The woman was always so _formal._

"Please call me by my name. Do you need anything?"

"The Jarl heard that you have returned to Whiterun and is requesting your presence."

Csatari groaned internally. "Did something happen? How did he ask you? Did he seem pissed?"

Lydia glanced around. Leaning in, Lydia whispered, "It's concerning the dragon problem."

_Shit._

The honeymoon really was over.

"Alright, I'll take care of it. Take a seat and have some dinner."

"As you wish, my Thane." The woman bowed as formal as ever and unsheathed her Skyforge battle axe, a gift Csatari bought her when she first became her housecarl, and sat down at the table.

Csatari walked back downstairs knowing that her map would be into her bedroom, she found Vilkas sitting on her bed, his hands folded together, staring at the ground. He looked up when he heard her enter.

"Something the matter?" he asked.

"The Jarl has called for me," she said.

"Why are you grabbing for your map?" he asked.

"I, you know, feel naked without it," she replied, lamely.

He stood up, walking over, "Why do you have so much coin?"

"What do you mean?"

"I found your purses. You must have at least 15 thousand septims in this room."

She actually had 17,486 septims, but that was beside the point. "You searched through my room? You are _unbelievable_!"

"Why do you have so much coin?" he demanded.

"Why? Do you want to take some? It's yours now, right?" She slid her folded map underneath her breastplate.

"Why are you hoarding this much money?"

She sighed. She didn't have time for this, but he deserved an answer. "I grew up very poor, you could say. Most of my life I didn't know when my next meal would come. I'll never be there again." She looked up at him. "I'll never let _us_ be there."

He walked towards her and she knew he was about to kiss her. She leaned in, giving him a peck on the cheek before pulling away. "I have to go," she said before starting for the door.

0000….

Csatari walked into Dragonsreach, guards opening the door for her. The Cloud District was interesting, the nearby mountain easily seen. The sight was truly humbling.

She walked up the stairs, to watch Balgruuf's children screaming at a maid. "This is garbage!" the daughter yelled, throwing a dress on the ground. "It's hideous! Why does my father pay you?" The maid quickly grabbed the dress off the floor, "Mi lady, it's a very nice dress. Try it on and give it a look in the mirror."

Csatari bit her tongue. A month with his children would be all she would need to set them straight. But, that wasn't her business, and she had more than enough to concern herself with.

She had always liked Dragonsreach. Although it was beautiful, the floors adorned with intricately woven rugs, shelves lined with books, long tables filled with food, Numinex's skull proudly hanging on the wall, there was a rustic feel to the place. Csatari also wouldn't describe it as opulent. Although Whiterun was Skyrim's trading center, Balgruuf did not blow the treasury on decadence. Csatari credited him with actually caring about his Hold's citizens, even if he was occasionally a pain in the ass.

The scene before her was typical. Farengar was fluttering around his study with a book in hand, Balgruuf's brother was swinging his axe at the air. Proventus Avenicci was standing to the left of the Jarl's throne, thumbing through papers. Irileth stood to his right, her arms crossed, staring at Csatari with her beady, red eyes. The Jarl was splayed out in his chair, nodding to something that Irileth was whispering to him.

Walking up to his throne, she bowed. "Jarl."

"Ah, Dragonborn, I'm glad you came so quickly." He smiled warmly.

Csatari cringed internally. Was it really so difficult for people to call her by her name?

"We have several sightings of dragons in the Whiterun hold. We wanted to keep you informed, but we have no exact locations to give you. The dragons keep leaving, then returning, then leaving."

"That's convenient," Csatari said, hiding her irritation. If they had no location to give her, and no real news to tell her, then why had she even come? There were dragons _everywhere _in Skyrim.

Balgruuf held his hand out. "I know it must be terribly frustrating. You must be aching to slay a dragon." There was a longing in his eyes, and Csatari realized the Jarl's brother was watching her intently, standing too closely. She eyed him, letting him know she didn't appreciate him breathing down her neck. He understood and after grunting, took two steps away from her.

"Foaming at the mouth," Csatari answered the Jarl, her hands crossed. If they only knew.

"On other matters, I've been informed that you married. I've also heard that Vilkas was the lucky man," the Jarl said.

What did Vilkas do? Make a public announcement of their wedding? How did so many know?

"I don't know about Vilkas being lucky, but yes, we're married," she said, chuckling nervously.

"Well, you can tell him that I envy him. He's a lucky man to have successfully wooed the Dragonborn," Balgruuf said, and suddenly Csatari stood uneasily. Damn Vilkas. She wished he had never said anything about Skulvard, wishing she could go back to her ignorant state. Before, she would have never realized _exactly_ what that comment meant.

"Thank you, sir, I'll tell him you said so. If that is all, then I'll be on my way."

"Of course, Dragonborn, when we can give you a dragon's location, we will let you know."

She nodded, before adding, "Please tell me, not my husband."

"What's the difference?" Proventus Avenicci asked. He was an idiot, she thought. His daughter was his greatest accomplishment.

"Because my business is my own," she growled.

"If our Thane wants us to tell her, then we will accommodate her," the Jarl said.

"Thank you," Csatari said, giving a low bow before turning and heading out.

Outside, she took a deep breath, running a hand through her hair. She walked down the steps towards the Wind District, listening to Heimskr shout his head off. Gods almighty, did that man have a set of lungs rambling on about Talos this and Talos that.

As she passed the Gildergreen tree, plucking a flower off the branches, she walked up the steps of Jorrvaskr. Walking around the building, she sat down on the benches near the training yard, watching the sun set. Twirling the flower in her fingers, she smelled it, trying to clear her mind of this nagging frustration. It felt good to be home, but she knew it would be short lived.

Part of her was a little tired of always running, always having to be on the go.

_Stop whining. You're making money, ensuring your future. You have a problem with that?_

She knew her inner voice was right. The day you became complacent was the day you died.

The back door of Jorrvaskr opened, and she felt someone sit down close. Csatari glanced up to see Vilkas sitting next to her. He didn't speak, so neither did she, both just staring up at the sun.

"It's your favorite time of day," he said while sliding closer to her, wrapping his arm around her neck.

"You remembered," she said.

"I remember everything you say to me," he told her, whispering in her ear.

Csatari wasn't sure what to say, so she remained quiet. After the silence continued on for some time, he asked, "How was Dragonsreach?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Balgruuf wanted me to tell you that he's jealous you successfully wooed me. So needless to say, it was a very awkward meeting."

Vilkas chuckled. "No doubt he's jealous."

Csatari rolled her eyes in response

.

"You don't think he's jealous?" Vilkas asked.

"Balgruuf doesn't want me. He wants the…" She stopped herself before slipping and saying Dragonborn. "Thane of Whiterun."

"You and the Thane of Whiterun are one in the same."

She shook her head. "I'm not interested in who wants to be there for my accomplishments. I'm interested in who wants to be there for everything else." It was lame, she knew, but she didn't know how else to explain the way she felt when people stared, calling her titles. It was as if she was no longer the same person for the last twenty some odd years- as if that woman hadn't been worthy of some title. Funny, she felt the same inside.

Csatari glanced up to find him staring with that unnerving intensity of his, and she realized just why it bothered her so. When he stared in that manner, it was as if all of the walls she carefully constructed were useless, as though he could see right through them.

What she wanted was for him to stop. She rested her head on his shoulder, so he physically couldn't stare at her. Csatari sighed, staring at the setting sun, remembering all of the reasons why she loved this- the setting sun, of course, not him next to her.

"What's your favorite time of day?" she asked absentmindedly.

"When the moon comes out. But, after I'm cured, I suppose it won't hold the same joy for me. I'll need a new favorite."

"You can borrow mine," she teased.

He chuckled, low and throaty. "I think I will."

The back door of Jorrvaskr opened, but she didn't bother to look up. Farkas stood in front of her, his massive frame blocking out the sun. "Can I sit down?"

"Sure," Csatari said, making sure her voice sounded casual. He sat down next to her, his arms braced against the table.

"Hey, is Lydia alright in there?" she asked Farkas.

"She's finishing up eating," he replied.

The silence was deafening. For some reason, that guilty feeling was back, like she was doing something wrong. Finally, after what felt like eternity, Csatari said, "You know, Farkas, Lydia is an incredible warrior. She's very lovely."

His eyebrow piqued, nearly rising to his hairline, questioning her. "She's not my type."

She wanted to ask, "What is your type?" Csatari knew that Vilkas would misconstrue her meaning, it would lead to a fight and another wrestling match, but honestly, if Farkas was just settled with someone- it would make this all so much easier.

"Ah, yes, I forgot. Tall blondes are your thing. Sorry, I just- you deserve someone great in your life."

"I _do_ have great people in my life," he responded.

"Right, of course, sorry. I won't bring it up again."

He sighed, "You have no reason to apologize. Thanks for thinking about me."

Csatari glanced quickly at Vilkas, to see his eyes questioning her.

She stared back at the setting sun that was suddenly taking far too long to set. "Nice sunset," she commented lamely.

"Very nice," both brothers said simultaneously.

Csatari sat, twirling the flower in her hand, resting her head on Vilkas with Farkas at her side.

0000000…..

A/N:

So, LOTS of thank-you's….

Thanks to: xxSketchtheelfxx, TheLastAlbiness, xxundyingnightshadexx, Argile Socks, Anonymous, and Emily Le Fay for leaving reviews. Unable to respond in a PM which is what I usually do, I still want you to know that I appreciate every word you have left me.

To Emtec:

I'm sorry that you did not like the story. (That's what I got out of your review.) Perhaps in the future I'll write something that you find more enjoyable.

To Essence of Soup:

Firstly, I SOLEMNLY swear to you awesome readers that I will NOT flake out on this story. It will be completed.

Secondly, yes, Vilkas is meant to come off a bit possessively/stalkerish in Sanguine's Influence. Csatari is being exceptionally out of character, but so is he. Even though the ficlet is in his POV, he's being influenced as well- and he doesn't have just one spirit influencing him, he has two (his soul and the beast).

It was the peculiar set of circumstances that created the situation of the two getting married.

I tried not to leave too much of a cliff hanger, although the next few chapters are some of my favorites for this entire story- things will pick back up.


	19. Chapter 19

I could stick around and get along with you  
>It doesn't really mean that I'm into you<br>You're alright but I'm here darling to enjoy the party  
>Don't get too excited 'cus that's all you get from me<br>Hey Yeah I think you're cute but really you should know  
>I just came to say hello<br>I'm not the kinda girl who'd get messed up with you  
>Imma let you try to convince me to<br>It's alright I'm getting dizzy just enjoy the party  
>It's ok with me if you don't have that much to say<br>Hey Kinda like this thing but there's something you should know  
>I just came to say hello<p>

~Martin Solveig- Hello

000000….

When the last sliver of sun could be seen across the horizon, Eorlund made his way down the steps from the Skyforge.

"Vilkas," he called out. "Your bow is beyond repair. I could try using steal, but I can't be sure it won't snap in the middle of using it."

Vilkas sighed angrily. "I'll have to buy a new one then."

"Just let me know when you want me to make it," Eorlund called out, reaching Jorrvaskr's door. The man have been in his late sixties, but when he walked, he _moved._ "Don't want to miss out on the feast," he explained, before entering the building.

Csatari frowned, turning to Farkas with an inclined brow. "They're planning a party inside, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Farkas replied and she groaned internally.

"Is there any way we can avoid it?" she asked optimistically.

"Nope."

She sighed, trying to find some silver lining to this black cloud. She disliked parties, attention- all of it was another way to get oneself killed. The rules were simple. Never stand out overtly, it'll get you killed. Never become a favorite, it will make someone else jealous. Never be the best fighter or the worst, staying in the middle will keep you fed, but unnoticed. Always keep yourself useful, but not too useful. The most important of those rules, of course, was: never stand out. Try your best to blend in. Parties being thrown for your benefit didn't fall into the ideal of blending in. She had Bulmond to thank for many of these lessons, for helping her survive without him.

She tried telling herself more than once that these rules no longer applied. She was with the Companions now; together, they were her family. It was difficult though, changing a decade's worth of survival habits. Maybe she'd never be able to change.

"In that case, can I at least have the armor the Circle made for me? I'll admit, I've been excited about it," she said still lying on Vilkas.

Silence was the only reply given, and when she sat up, looking first at Farkas, then at Vilkas, she realized the two were having a silent conversation.

Farkas' eyes were questioning, Vilkas' were guarded, yet apologetic. What felt like an eternity worth of time, Farkas finally answered, "Alright, we could give you the armor now…that the Circle bought you."

Csatari's eyes flipped back and forth between Vilkas and Farkas to realize the two were still silently conversing.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Nothing," both said simultaneously, Vilkas' words rushed and curt, Farkas' drawn out, sounding like a sigh.

"Don't lie to me, " Csatari muttered to the ground, pulling on her lip with her teeth.

"Nothing is going on, Csatari," Vilkas' words came out low near her ear, and meant to be soothing.

There was no point pushing the matter because she could tell on Farkas' face that he was not going to contradict his brother. Csatari vowed that she would get him to talk later. She stood up, starting for the door, the brothers following her.

Walking into Jorrvaskr, she placed her hand up, covering her eyes, refusing to look. If she didn't know the extent of the atrocity that lay before her, her mood wouldn't prematurely darken. She could still delude herself into believing that it'd be small and intimate. Just the Companions eating dinner and drinking, at the very worst there might be singing. She tried not to think about singing or toasting. Maybe there'd be sweet rolls.

Csatari remembered Vilkas saying that the armor was in Farkas' room, and the condition, however, that she was not allowed in his room. As she waited outside, resting against the wall, Vilkas watched her, contemplative.

Farkas began fumbling through a chest, and glanced up at Csatari. "You can come in, you know."

"You fill up that whole room by yourself. If I walk in, you may squish me to death. It would be messy, a lot of work for Tilma. I'm good out here," she bluffed, tossing a cheeky grin to the warrior.

Farkas barked a laugh, continuing to rummage through his chest. When she glanced over at Vilkas, there was a small smile playing on his lips. As she looked back to Farkas, shiny armor draped over his arm and he had boots and gauntlets clutched in his hands.

"From the Circle," Farkas murmured a slight edge to his voice.

"Wow," she breathed, her hand stroking the armor, marring the shining silver. "Wait, shouldn't we call down Aela? If this is from the Circle, it seems rude not to include her."

"Don't worry about it," Vilkas answered quickly. "She'll know that you're appreciative."

"That's not right," Csatari countered, knowing the fights they had just had recently with the Circle, needing them all to come together.

Vilkas brushed his finger against the edge of her collarbone, the edge peeking out of her armor. Unable to stop herself, she shivered violently while gasping. "Don't worry about it," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot, tickling her ear.

Mortified by what he had just done, used a sensitive place against her in such a way, no less in front of Farkas, she blushed furiously while taking the armor from Farkas. She had no idea how Vilkas was aware of her weakness and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know how he knew.

"Thanks," she mumbled to Farkas, unable to look him in the eyes. "I'm going to try this on in my room."

She fought not to run down the hall, to keep her stride leisurely, until reality hit just what Vilkas had done. He was showing dominance over her, to prove that with just one touch she would do his bidding. In her opinion, he also did it in front of Farkas on purpose out of spite; to show her that Farkas may have been in the past the only brother to affect her, but that was no longer the case.

She refused to let him win. She wasn't just some title, or some object. She was a person with feelings, and she had been relatively well- behaved around him. Alright, she was _trying_ to be well-behaved. He just made it so difficult for her not to choke him to death. But, with this little stunt, all bets were off. She'd show him just how much fire she could throw at the almighty Vilkas.

When she reached her room, she closed the door behind her, still furious, stripping out of her armor. With a clang each piece hit the floor, and when she was down to nothing but her undergarments, she sat down on the bed. She studied the armor, now appreciating its beauty, her fingertips running over the intricate detail- the wolf heads, the intricate inlay, the workmanship was exquisite- only seen by a master.

Her fingers moved to the inside fur, feeling just how soft and warm it was. Eorlund had padded the armor incredibly. Finding herself smiling, she began to figure out all of the buckles and clasps, so that she could place the armor on. Each clasp or buckle undone was adding to the excitement. Finally, when all the gear was on, she bent over, picking up her knapsack from the ground. She took out the mirror Vilkas had bought her, using it to glance at the top half of the armor, pleased with what she saw.

A knock at the door pulled her out of her reverie, and she shouted, "Yeah."

When Vilkas entered, her smile faded. "Yes?" she asked, her tone hostile.

"I wanted to see how it looked, see if the fit was right," he said.

She crossed her arms after placing the mirror down. "Well, you saw what it looks like and that it fits right. You can leave now."

He was unperturbed by her words. "You look incredible. If the Old Man could have seen you in this armor…"

It was a low blow bringing up Kodlak, trying to have her soften. She wouldn't fall for the trap.

"Are you done now?" she snapped.

He glanced up, his feet moving towards her. "Why are you so hostile now? You don't like the armor?" It was the briefest flicker of sadness in his eyes, but it was gone before she could take a second glance.

"I love the armor, and I'll be sure to tell Farkas and Aela just how much I appreciate it."

"Don't bother. They already know," he replied quickly.

"Don't tell me what to do!" She was the one rushing him now, her hard against his chest. Gasping, Csatari tried to jerk from Vilkas' grasp as his arms wrapped around her.

"Why are you so worked up?" he whispered against the shell of her ear

"Tell me what was going on between you and Farkas? Tell me and I'll tell you. Isn't this how marriage works, _dear_? Compromise?"

He growled, frustrated, and she knew she had him.

Irritated, he scowled, but complied. "The Circle did not buy you the armor. I did. You and I had a rocky friendship. I was remorseful of the situation. I wanted to make amends, start anew."

Her mind blanked, but she quickly recovered. "Why did you want to be my friend? Why did you lie about it?" she asked.

"Because I've wanted to be _more_ than a friend for a while, Csatari. Friendship seemed like a place to start. I lied because I never know what will set you off. I was concerned if I told you that I bought it, you wouldn't accept it." He sat down on the bed, frustrated.

She realized he was right, if she knew that he bought her the armor she may not have accepted it. Somehow he had turned this on her, and now she felt like an ungrateful bitch. _That cunning bastard._

She placed her hand on his cheek, his stubble brushing against her fingertips. He looked up at her touch.

"I love it. Thank you." Vilkas leaned into her touch, and it caused her to drop to her knees. Now nearly eye level with him, she asked, "Are you going to talk to Olfina?"

"Are we back on that?" he asked.

"We never resolved it. I don't like to see her touching you."

He slid her hand over his lips, kissing her palm. "Consider it already done."

"Why did you touch me that way in front of Farkas?" she asked.

"I knew if you went to Aela, she would tell you that I was the one to buy you the armor. I supposed it didn't matter because I just told you."

"No more lying." The irony of that comment was not lost on her. "Please don't do that again. I was uncomfortable sharing such a private thing with others."

His eyes turned stormy. "Was it because it was my brother?"

"No, I would have felt the same around anyone. I told you already I'm not comfortable with public scenes." It was a tiny lie, she was angrier that he pulled the stunt in front of Farkas, but she was trying to get her point across.

His hands went out to her waist and before she realized, she was sitting in his lap. "Then I'm sorry."

The fight was over…for now.  
>He rested his forehead against hers. There was a strange amount of solace she felt at that moment, all of the anxiety and anger leaving her.<p>

It was short lived, however, as the door knocked. "They're ready for you." Csatari knew the voice could only be Farkas'.

"What is this exactly?" she asked Vilkas.

She could tell he was debating what to say, and she reminded him, "No more lies."

He sighed. "It's just people from around Whiterun who couldn't come to the wedding. They wished to have a party, so the Companions threw one for us."

It was worse than she thought. Far worse.

"Exactly who is up there?" she asked, alarmed.

He smiled nervously. It was a strange expression, she thought. One she had never seen on him before. "Just a few people."

"Define a few." Her eyes narrowed.

He laughed nervously.

"Vilkas!" she shouted, smacking his chest hard.

"The Jarl, his housecarl, the Gray-Manes, The Avenicci's, Carlotta and her daughter, Ysolda, Belethor…." The list continued on.

She stopped him by asking, "All of the Gray Mane's?"

"Yes."

Her mood soured considerably.

"Csatari, they put a lot of effort into this. They even hired a bard to play. Please try to be happy about this."

Now she made him feel like an ungrateful bitch yet again.

"Vilkas, I'm not used to this- parties, people making a fuss. This makes me anxious because it's a good way to get yourself killed." She continued at his questioning gaze. "To draw attention to yourself. I was trained that it was the last thing you ever did. I keep telling myself it's silly, but I can't change my instincts, or the way I've lived for so long. You have no idea just how special the Companions are; they're unlike any other mercenary band. I don't know how to sleep without a dagger under my pillow, and one eye over my shoulder."

He rubbed her back. "No one will ever hurt you. Not while I'm around. Just know that they're here to celebrate you. Just try to relax and have fun."

She nodded, her body leaning into his, feeling oddly relieved by admitting those things to him, small fears of hers, nothing of note, but still…

"Alright," she said, resigning to the night, "let's go."

She stood up, and although she did not strap on her sword belt, she did place two small daggers in her boots. When he watched her curiously, she shrugged. "I'm not going to change overnight."

The two made for the door.

00000…..

It was much worse than she mentally prepared herself for. Jorrvaskr was filled to the brim with people. Servants had been hired for the occasion; extra barrels of mead had been made. Flowers decorated the tables in pretty vases; furniture had been rearranged and removed from the room to create a makeshift dancing area, while snowberry wreaths adorned the wooden beams around the room. Red and blue flowers had been weaved into multiple strands of a necklace, which had been placed around her neck. She remembered that red and blue flowers together were an old Nordic wife's tale believed to help fertility. Csatari wondered if there was any way she could remove the necklace, burn it, do anything to rid herself of it without causing offense.

It wasn't just a few people there, however. _Everyone _seemed to be there, and they all wanted to speak to her.

She was finally able to make her way over to the bard, and realized with alarm that it was the same man from Rorikstead, the farmer-cum-bard. He was a thin but muscular man, wearing a green tunic that laced in the front, and sand colored breeches. He wore brown leather boots and his long hair was pulled back in a ponytail by a leather strip. His hair was the color of chocolate, light green eyes, his beard and mustache both trimmed closely to his face. He was in his forties she guessed. His hands were callused, but there was no dirt under his finger nails, and he was wearing some type of cologne.

"You played at the Frostfruit Inn."

"Yes, I did," his smile was wide. "When I heard about this job, I jumped on the opportunity. To play for the Dragonborn is every bard's dream."

"Shh," she glanced around making sure no one heard. "How do you know that?"

"Guards in the area have been talking about you, giving your description out," he replied with innocent looking eyes.

_Fucking guards. _ They were supposed to help and protect, but the only ones she ran into simply made her life more difficult. They were nothing but pains in the asses.

"Hey, listen. No matter what, do not play the Dragonborn song," she whispered in the man's ear.

"What if someone requests it?"

"I'll pay you extra tonight for denying them, alright? Just don't play it_." _

_Last time you did, I nearly slept with my husband._

"If they ask why I've refused them?" the man pressed.

"Tell them that I said the song is very sad with mentions of dragons and the apocalypse. Tell them I wanted more upbeat songs for such a joyous occasion."

The man nodded. "Very well, serah," he said, while beginning to strum a new tune.

With the music situation taken care of, a guest grabbed her, and she was shuffled around the main hall of Jorrvaskr talking to countless of people. Her neck was stiffening from nodding so much, her arm beginning to sore from all the hand shaking.

Sometime during the night, Vilkas had returned to her side, his hand low on her back. She allowed it, grateful that he was going through this painful experience as well, not deserting her. She also passed off all the presents she was given to him. Where he placed them all, she hadn't a clue.

Vilkas was smart enough to move her along when they reached Olfina Long-Legs, saying nothing more than a 'hello and thank-you for coming.'

She couldn't stop noticing the bard's eyes, however, watching her, and because of this she couldn't stop herself from peering over her shoulder occasionally.

Vilkas finally whispered in her ear that she must be starving. When someone else tried to whisk her away in more pointless conversation, he refused them. "My wife needs to sit down and eat."

Normally, she would have bristled against his authoritative nature, but at that moment she was thankful. She was famished, and trying to think up conversation topics, or the correct responses to questions, while making sure no one slipped to Vilkas that she was the Dragonborn was grating her nerves.

She sat down at a seat Vilkas ushered her towards, but when he moved to leave, she grabbed his hand. "Would you mind staying with me?"

"Let me just get us food," he whispered in her ear. She released his hand sitting there, as she waited for him to return.

She listened to the song the bard was playing, "There once was a hero named Hall, who came riding to Markarth from ole Ivarstead!  
>And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade, as he told of bold battles and gold he had made!<br>But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the shield maiden Bethilda who said…  
>It's not you that I love, my dear; it's your brother…"<p>

Csatari realized he was playing the chords to Ragnar the Red. The words were terribly off, however, and she wondered how many ales the bard had drank. No one else seemed to mind, however, many still dancing.

Vilkas returned with two plates of food, sitting down. They ate in companionable silence, Csatari eating slowly enjoying the semi-quiet. If she finished eating, she'd have to get up and chat again. Half way through the meal, however, Olfina walked over, placing her hand on Vilkas' shoulder. She leaned in, whispering, "Can we go somewhere and talk?"

There was no way Olfina could know that with Csatari's sensitive hearing, whispering was pointless because she could hear every word.

"Olfina, I don't think that's wise," he said, sounding more nervous than cocky.

"Please," she pressed, her eyes pleading, her lips pouting.

"Alright," he said. Turning towards Csatari, he said, "I'll be right back."

She said nothing in return, furious that he was deserting her, furious that he was walking off with _that_ woman, furious that he wasn't taking care of the situation like he promised. The Harbinger watched the two walk across the room onto the dance floor, Csartari's thoughts positively venomous.

The dancing started innocently enough, but as she watched, that husband stealer was inching closer and closer to her husband. The bard was playing a new song now; the words were all wrong as well- something about a hagraven, a prophecy, a ritual being performed on a full moon, and a savior being born.

She'd have to remember never to hire this bard again for any other party. His lute playing was fine, his singing voice was quite melodic, but the guy couldn't even remember the correct words to common songs.

She watched as Vilkas frowned, shaking her head to something that _hag_ whispered, but when she placed her hand on Vilkas' chest again, Csatari lost control.

Standing up, she made her way across the dance floor. No one would steal her husband _and_ insult her in her own home.

00000…..

A/N: Sorry for the delay was in hospital. This week, hubby and I are going on vacation. Will get the next chapter posted soon though. Sorry I haven't responded to PM's yet. Couldn't have computer in the hospital. Thought you'd rather get the next chapter. Will respond to all reviews and PM's tonight.

Thanks for reading!

As always a HUGE thanks to my beta. She's incredible.


	20. Chapter 20

Don't wanna break your heart  
>Wanna give your heart a break<br>I know you're scared it's wrong  
>Like you might make a mistake<br>There's just one life to live  
>And there's no time to wait, to waste<br>So let me give your heart a break, give your heart a break

When your lips are on my lips  
>And our hearts beat as one<br>But you slip out of my fingertips  
>Every time you run, whoa-oh<p>

~Demi Lovato- Give Your Heart A Break 

0000000…

As Csatari made her way across the room, she swore that bard would never be hired again. He was singing some other song about _The Savior,_ whoever that was. She pushed the thoughts aside quickly, because she had a mission.

From the corner of his eye, she saw Vilkas watching her, nervousness and dread warring as the dominant emotion in his eyes. For some strange, sick, reason, it caused her to smile. But really, it was his own damn fault that he was in this situation, wasn't it? Vilkas promised he'd speak to Olfina, but he hadn't. She had kept all of her promises to him, yet he couldn't honor one.

The little nagging voice in the back of her head told her that maybe she was rushing to conclusion. Maybe she should have waited, should have held back a while longer but, when Olfina leaned to whisper in Vilkas' ear, her hand territorially on his shoulder, Csatari's resolve strengthened. Waiting clearly wasn't an option.

Csatari weaved in and out of the dancing guests to reach the _adorable_ couple before her, and they were now close enough that they were within earshot. She faltered for just a step when she heard Vilkas' words. "My answer has not changed. This is not a situation where the Companions can involve themselves. I'm sorry, Olfie."

_OIfie? He calls that hussy Olfie? _The nickname was a little too much for her, bordering on intimate, but the rest of his words were not what she had expected to hear. Heated whispers between lovers, or pleads for a tryst's continuation were what she thought would hear, but his words and tone were brusque- too across the business table and not enough between the sheets sounding for Csatari to ignore. But, if it was a matter concerning the Companion's, why hadn't Vilkas told her? Instead, it seemed like he had gone out of his way _not_ to tell her, and she realized with dismay that the thought stung just as badly as the previous thoughts of his possible affair.

With renewed anger, Csatari stalked towards the pair, sparing a frosty smile for Olfina.

"You and I have not had time to get better acquainted," Csatari murmured, leveling a wooden gaze at the other woman. "A shame, really," she continued, before turning her back on the woman and spearing Vilkas with a bitter grimace. "Farkas needs you. He said it was an urgent Companion matter that could not wait."

When the Companion opened his mouth, Csatari's eyes narrowed before Vilkas relented, sighing as he heaved himself from his seat, departing with a sorrowful glance back at his wife.

Csatari turned towards the homewrecker, her arms crossed to keep her hands busy while Olfina merely lifted a brow. "This is such a fine gathering. You must be so pleased that so many came out to celebrate your marriage."

Not even bothering to answer the woman's statement, Csatari went to the offensive. "Listen Olfina, I'll be frank with you. I want to know what the hell is going on between you and my husband. I'm not leaving, and you're not walking away until I'm satisfied with the answer."

Csatari realized with mild shock that calling Vilkas her husband didn't feel as much like pretend anymore. There was some meaning to the word now. It held weight.

"He and I have just been having an argument lately," Olfina said nonchalantly, tucking fallen strands of hair behind her ear.

"Bullshit!" Csatari shouted, moving closer to the hussy in order to effectively shove her finger in the prissy woman's face. "You have been touching him more in the last day than a prostitute desperate for a client. I want to know why, and I want to know now!" What little self-composure Csatari had, she realized was quickly falling apart.

The woman blinked, clearly shocked. "Did you just compare me to a prostitute?"

Csatari still not moving from the position she was in. "You're damn right I did."

A large smile began spreading across her face. "Perhaps you are just what I need then."

_What? _ Csatari made sure her face gave none of her surprise away as she raised her eyebrow.

"Vilkas and I have been talking lately, well arguing actually, over Thorald's disappearance. I was begging your husband to get involved, to look into his disappearance. He refused, said neither he nor the Companions could since we suspect the Thalmor of taking him with the Imperials help. Vilkas said the Companions could not get involved in politics and that Thorald's capture was completely wrapped in politics."

Csatari stood there letting the words swirl around in her head as she processed them. "Who is Thorald?"

"Eorlund's son."

_That_ had not been what she had expected the woman to say at all.

"Why did you not bring this to my attention earlier?" Csatari asked, still holding on to suspicion.

"Because you and I do not know each other well. I was certain you'd dismiss me. I thought Vilkas was my best shot because he and I are childhood friends."

Csatari's eyebrow shot up. "Friends?"

The woman's hands went out defensively. "Just friends, I swear. Never been more than friends."

Csatari sighed, trying to figure out how to make this work.

Eorlund's son. Eorlund was their blacksmith. She had to help his family. Rubbing her forehead, she said, "Speak of this to no one. I'll work out something."

"You're going to help us? Eorlund and Fralia have very little to pay you with, though," she replied.

She snapped at the woman. "What do you take me for? I wouldn't ask for money. This is about doing the right thing and taking care of your own. Eorlund is one of ours."

The woman seemed surprised by her response. "I don't know what to say. Thorald is my cousin, my best friend. Thank you." Olfina seemed truly touched.

"Give me a day or two to get a plan in action. Don't mention this to Vilkas again." _He's going to be furious with what I'm about to do._ "Oh, and Olfina? You put your hand on my husband again, or not stand at a respectful distance away while speaking to him, and I'll cut your hands off," Csatari said in a strangely calm voice, but she knew she wouldn't hesitate to carry it out.

The woman just smiled slightly. "Understood. I'm glad Vilkas is with someone who loves him, someone who will fight for him. He deserves it."

She wanted to desperately shout at the woman, "Of course I'm not in love with him!"

But, she realized that would be less than helpful since the whole point was to _appear_ like a loving couple to outsiders. Besides, the last thing Vilkas needed was for Csatari to fall in love with him. Horrible things always happened to people she loved- they overdosed on skooma, or took a dagger to the skull. And then they were gone for good. She realized then that although she was excellent at surviving, Csatari didn't know a damn thing about living. The realization made her feel more alone than ever before.

Without saying another word, Csatari marched back across the dance floor toward her husband who was standing next to his brother. She looked at the two brothers standing next to each other, both staring at her smiling, and she realized with surprise just how much taller Farkas really was. Yet, as tall as he was, Csatari knew it was Vilkas that was the dangerous one. Dangerous in so many ways.

She stood in front of him with arms crossed, glaring, waiting for him to speak. "Farkas and I were just talking about how much time and energy you spend _pretending_ that you don't care for me." A half smile started forming, and Csatari's eyes turned to slits. _Don't get angry, get even._

Farkas began shifting uneasily. "I'm getting out of here before I get into trouble." He walked away, leaving the couple standing there alone.

"I'm not the only one who wears a mask," she said. Vilkas' eyebrow raised, and she could see by his face that he was struggling to put the pieces together. She stepped closer to him, batting her eyelashes, looking into his eyes. "You're right. I_ am_ falling for you, and it's frightening. I can't bear the thought of losing you." She was close enough that their noses could touch, and she let out a theatrical sigh, her hand moving to his waist. His eyes widened before turning warm and she heard his breath hitch.

_Gotcha. _

He kissed her ferociously, and as she pulled back trying to catch her breath, she smiled. "See what I mean? You love for everyone to think that you're an unapproachable asshole, yet you were pretty quick to believe that load of horseshit I just told you." She poked him in the chest with her finger. "You're really just a big softie."

Vilkas growled, his hands moving to her waist as he shoved her roughly against the wall. "You claim you didn't mean it, but I think you did."

Csatari shrugged. "You can delude yourself all you want."

His weight was pinning her against the wall, and she realized that the solidness of him pressed against her was oddly comforting.

"What is it that you want, Csatari?" he asked, frustration leaking out into every syllable.

"Not a damn thing from you, Vilkas."

His hands moved from her waist to the sides of her head. "Why? Why are we going back to the place we were before?"

This she didn't mind explaining to him. Letting him know just how much his behavior cut her. "You could tell me you love me a thousand times, Vilkas, and it's meaningless when you pull shit like you just did with Olfina. I asked you for one damn thing, and you couldn't do it."

His shoulders deflated, and he looked defeated, not able to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry. I had every intention of stopping her, but to see you so angry was very satisfying, and it helped her too…" he sighed, and she realized he sounded defeated. He ran his hand through his hair before continuing. "I feel like every mistake I make will be the one where I lose you."

She wanted to shout at him, but his words- she understood them all too well. Dragonborn, Thane of Whiterun, Harbinger- the demands placed on her, the pressure. They expected her to fart roses, move mountains with her mind, and make the impossible happen _always_. She was still just trying to figure out how to make it to tomorrow. Some hero she was. To feel like she was never good enough, no matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't be enough…_that_ she understood all too well. And she didn't want_ him_ to feel that way.

She placed her arms around him, and while looking over his shoulder, unable to look him in the eyes, she said, "You won't lose me no matter how stupid you act. Just don't do that again- that stunt you pulled with Olfina. That hurt…a lot. I-yes, I feel insecure about how many women you've been with, and yes, I'm scared to…feel for you, because I'm positive that's when I'll lose you to one of those tarts. " Thank the gods Jorvaskr was a mead hall because she was positive she was going to need to drink _heavily_ after admitting all of that.

He braced more of his weight against her, his nose skimming across her cheek. "It'll never happen again, and you're the only one I see," he replied, his accent so thick it was difficult to understand the words.

"We should get back to the party, the guests, you know those people that are here. We shouldn't be doing this with everyone watching," she barely got the words out as he began kissing down the side of her neck. She watched a playful smile erase the melancholy from moments before. When he looked up at her it was with that _damn_ smirk, that arrogance that used to grate on her last nerve. Now, somehow, it wasn't _that_ annoying anymore.

"I thought you wanted everyone to know that I was yours. Wasn't that what you charged over to tell Olfina?" he asked rhetorically. Her breathing was embarrassingly loud and erratic as his hand slipped to the back of her thigh, grabbing it, and wrapping her leg around his waist. He kissed her collarbone, and she nipped his neck to keep from shouting out. Despite the room growing hazy, blood pounding in her ears, and Vilkas' roaming hands, she somehow had enough presence of mind to hear, "Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart…"

Didn't she specifically request the bard not to play this song? Didn't she offer him money to deny the song? Why was he playing it then? All of the songs he played incorrectly all night long, yet he knows that song perfectly? The hairs on the back of her neck were standing on edge. Something was _very_ wrong.

With her leg wrapped around Vilkas' waist, Csatari easily slipped the dagger out of her boot and sent it flying through the air towards the musician. She was not meaning to kill the bard, but rather to send a message. The blade wedged into the wood beam near his head. The man's eyes moved from the blade's location to her eyes.

"Who do you work for?" She shouted. Vilkas turning and realizing what had just occurred, placed himself protectively in front of Csatari.

A slow smile began creeping across the bard's face. "Good. I was worried you were beginning to lose your edge." Dropping the lute, he began running for the door, and Csatari realized with surprise that he was _fast. _

The guests now all screaming in panic, realizing something was amiss, caused Csatari to shout out orders. "Circle members check the perimeter of Jorrvaskr. Once finished, help the Companions protect the guests and begin escorting them home."

After giving the orders, she slipped past Vilkas and ran after the bard in question. Now outside, she saw the bard scale Whiterun's wall. "Damn it!" she shouted.

She made her way to the Underforge, the stone door opening to her touch. She began tossing her clothes in a heap on the stone floor. Completely naked, she allowed the change to begin.

The transformation was always painful. She had read somewhere that while becoming a werewolf, her heart expanded faster than her ribs causing her heart to slam against its bony cage. There seemed to be some truth to that theory she thought because the pain in her chest was always excruciating- causing her to cry out in pain. By the time the transformation was complete, however, the pain was gone. It was nothing but a distant memory, while her body flooded with power and excitement.

She made her way for the secret exit of the Underforge, her powerful hind legs pushing her off the ground, sending her flying into the night. When her paws finally touched ground, she began sniffing the air. She recalled the smell of the bard from when she was standing near him in human form. It was nothing compared to the smell of a beast, but it was enough for her to find the trail. His smell was mixed with the smell of a horse- a young mare, she realized, sniffing more deeply. Csarari took off towards their trail at a full sprint.

She had prey to catch.

000000000….

A/N: So, I have lots of people to comment to:

Jenny: Thanks for the wonderful, encouraging words. As far as your request for a story about Vilkas and Csatari first meeting, the story is already being posted. If you go to my author page, you can find it under my stories titled: Surrender ToThe Inevitable. (It's the prequel to the Wrong Husband).

Lupingirl: Thank you for all your kind words. Really made my day. Yup, more Csatari/Vilkas sexies are coming.

Awkotaco and Lurve: Thanks for the reviews. So glad to hear you are enjoying it. I will NOT abandon this story for any reason. I was hospitalized again, however, so I needed to take care of me.

Thanks to everyone for reviewing, favoriting, and following this story- but a special thanks to those who review. It makes my day to read your thoughts.

A special thanks to LythiaAerie. She's the best beta in the world.


	21. Chapter 21

I was a heavy heart to carry  
>My beloved was weighed down<br>My arms around his neck  
>My fingers laced to crown.<p>

I was a heavy heart to carry  
>My feet dragged across ground<br>And he took me to the river  
>Where he slowly let me drown<p>

My love has concrete feet  
>My love's an iron ball<br>Wrapped around your ankles  
>Over the waterfall<p>

I'm so heavy, heavy  
>Heavy in your arms<p>

~Florence and the Machine- Heavy In Your Arms

0000000…

Csatari l_oved_ running as a wolf. If she was being honest, it was probably her favorite thing to do. Most of the time, it felt as if the world was moving too slowly around her. It made sense now, she supposed, that she enjoyed the speed since she _was_ supposed to be born with wings. The wind whipping through her fur and the brief touch of ground beneath her pads before being in the air again was _sensational_.

Her head was much quieter as a werewolf, a welcomed relief. Even more quiet than when she was in battle. There was no guilt, no anxiety, no fear that she was misinterpreting some social cue. The world as a human was painted in gray, but as a wolf- there was only black and white. She understood this world much easier, understood her place within as well. It was her and her prey, nothing else.

And her prey was headed west at a full gallop.

She stretched her legs out, pushing her muscles to their limit. As she followed the scent her nose provided. She was faster than a horse as a werewolf, so she knew it was only a matter of time.

Csatari cleared a hill, leaping off into the land below, and it occurred to her that the bard was not taking the main road, rather deliberately galloping _through _the countryside. On the road, he would have had the advantage; Csatari being forced to the woods alongside the path for fear of discovery, or worse needing to kill a person out of self-defense if one attacked.

The night she drank the beast blood she made a vow to herself that she would use the powers to help, to give her an edge, but not at cost of innocent lives. She wouldn't kill people for the sake of the hunt, no matter how often her blood screamed for retribution. She would _not_ become a monster. She would not become what Grelad the Kind had swore she would become- a criminal, a murderer, and soulless monster.

She put the thoughts aside of that evil troll, and thought to her previous idea- the bard not sticking to the easiest path. It led suspicion that he was leading her into a trap- the only inevitable conclusion. She would have to stay more alert. Csatari knew she was gaining on him because the scent was fresher, having just been laid. She whipped through the forest of trees, darting in and out of the forest, the crunch of fallen leaves underneath her pads.

He realized the direction they were running, and with surprise realized they were headed towards Rorikstead. Csatari could smell magic- haunting, enchanting, making her want to bathe in its potency. There was only one magic that called her so strongly- ancient Nordic magic.

It was calling to her, and she realized that the bard and the magic's pull were both in the same direction. Out of the forest, and into the field, Csatari realized she was near the dragon that died that morning, the dragon that had been shouting to her about her inevitable doom. It concerned her that even though Csatari had already absorbed the dragon's soul, nothing remaining but bones, the lingering magic was still so incredibly potent, concentrated to that area alone.

Ten more leaps, and she passed the dragon's bones, and with alarm knew she was nearing the giant's camp. She ran past, without alerting attention to the den, when the bay horse came into view.

Now in sight, she ran with wild abandon, her feet taking her faster than ever before. She would not tolerate a threat to the Companions, to her family.

Now running next to the horse, the bard turned to her, his face serene- too calm. Not the face of a man staring down a werewolf that is hell bent in catching you.

"What are you gonna do now?" he shouted at her.

She leapt up into the air, grabbing the bard off the horse, clearing the horse's haunches. She wrapped her paws around the bard's head to protect him from the fall. He would be useless to her with a cracked skull or even worse dead; a broken limb was fine, however. They landed with a thud on the ground, the horse galloping on before realizing it was without rider, slowing down to a canter, circling around.

The man stood up from the ground, and she allowed it, awaiting his next move. He brushed off his pants and shirt, looking up irately. "Your mother would be pissed if she saw what you've become."

A furious rage overtook her, as a fierce roar ripped through her body.

He held his hands out defensively. "Now, now, calm down. I get why you did it. No need to get your panties in a twist, _niece_."

Her head cocked sideways at the name.

"Caught your attention, did I?" he asked, a smirk forming on his lips. "Kid, you have no idea just how important you are. If you want answers come to The Sleeping Giant Inn in two days _with _your husband. Tell Mralki that you were wondering what yesterday's special was. And kid, don't travel without him or one of the Companions anymore. There are too many out there who want the dragons to return and want to see you dead. I have been watching your friends a long time. They can be trusted. No one has gotten to them. Stay close to the twins, especially."

She moved to attack. _No one_ would threaten her family.

"Relax. You've got them _both_ wrapped around your little finger. You are your mother's daughter, after all." Csatari detected bitterness in his voice. "Smart move marrying Vilkas. He, unlike Farkas, will do whatever is necessary to protect you. _He_ is what you _need, _kid_."_

She stood there speechless, even if she could speak. Her eyesight began blurring, however, and she knew that she was returning to human form, the beast blood waning.

"You're turning human again," he said, "so it's time for me to leave. Don't worry, they're on their way."

She pricked her ear back to listen closer and heard three pairs of paws running through the woods. She looked at the bard again, who was uncorking a bottle and drinking. "See you in two days, kid." He swallowed the bottle and _vanished._

She looked down at her hands and watched her wolf claws and hair retract, the form returning to her human hands. Her eyesight blurred again, nothing more than fuzzy shapes, as she began shrinking in size. It was then that she heard the cracking sound, as she screamed into the night, her injured leg re breaking. It apparently wasn't strong enough or mended enough to not re-shatter with its change in size. The hard run across the country side hadn't helped matters either she supposed. Csatari fell to the ground, her eyesight still not returning to normal.

She braced herself against the frozen ground, a welcomed relief on her leg.

She was wincing in pain, disbelieving that she had broken her leg _again. _She was freezing, naked, and wondering how in hell she got herself into this situation. Shivering, she wrapped her hands around her body. If she waited five minutes or ten hours she didn't have a clue. The pain was just so damn _overwhelming_.

She finally felt a wet snout on her cheek, and turned. "Hey," she said in a subdued tone, grateful to see him, to no longer be alone.

Csatari watched the wolf look past her, his nose then to the ground. "No, let him go. We'll talk about it when you're back in human form. I can't get up, my leg shattered in the transformation."

His wet nose sniffed her leg, his yellow eyes looking into hers. As he placed his arms out, Csatari used his them to brace herself while standing up, wrapping her arms around his furry neck. It didn't matter that he was in werewolf form, and it didn't matter that he was the only member of the Circle that she had never see transform. She knew that it was Vilkas.

Farkas and Aela showed up then, and Csatari needed to maneuver her hands to cover her _womanly_ parts.

Now in Vilkas' arms, he called out to the other two, in a series of barks and howls. One darted quickly to the right, the other to the left, running into the night.

On his two hind legs, Vilkas began jogging back towards Whiterun. Csatari curled her head into his chest, his warm fur comforting against her face. Vilkas jogged forward, as though carrying Csatari was his burden to bear, which of course only made her feel worse about the situation. She didn't want to be anyone's burden.

Looking ahead, Csatari saw a fireplace and realized they were coming to a camp. As they approached, however, Vilkas began transforming back to his human form. His transformation was rather seamless she noticed with a bit of awe. Changing from wolf to man, he continued walking with her in his arms, not taking a single misstep. Her switches were never so flawless and wondered how he did it.

Ice blue eyes stared down at her instead of yellow. "Tell me why we let him go."

_Shit._ She tried to think of a quick enough lie. "I have use for him in the future," she said.

"What use?" Vilkas asked, staring straight ahead.

"Information," she replied, wanting to tell half-truths rather than outright lies.

It was then that she realized Vilkas was naked and instead of lying against his soft pelt, she was lying against his warm chiseled body. She dismissed the thought instantly because at that moment she had _bigger_ problems than being affected by her husband's naked body.

Entering the camp ground, she saw bodies lying on the ground. Looking at their bitten necks, and lacerated bodies, she shivered slightly wondering who had done it, Aela or Farkas.

"Bandits?" Csatari asked.

"They've been causing the Whiterun guards problems for months, robbing and killing travelers. They're a problem no more," Vilkas replied in an even tone.

Vilkas placed her down on a log they had been using as a makeshift bench, and after mumbling thanks, looked away from his naked body out of respect knowing it was the unfortunate downside of being a werewolf.

Csatari wasn't sure if Vilkas would understand why she looked away. Would he realize it was because she respected and cared about him? Or would he rather she just ogle him to death? She knew the answer already; his ego would demand that she eye fuck him. She wrapped her arms around her body shivering from the below freezing temperatures.

Vilkas began undressing the bandits. Checking the sizes of his find, he threw armor at her. Csatari looked at the armor, then back at Vilkas, raising an eyebrow.

"Really?" she asked, regarding the wares. In her hand was a fur skirt, cut so short that it would barely cover her unmentionables. The top half was little more than a breast band. She placed it on, sliding her good foot into the fur lined boot.

"What did she do, fight or fuck for a living in this get up?" Csatari grumbled loudly. For the briefest of moments, Csatari _swore _she saw a grin cross his face, and her eyes narrowed. _He did this on purpose_. Vilkas dressed in studded armor a little too short for him.

He sat down across from her, the crackling camp fire between them. With his elbows resting on his thighs, he watched her.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"I'm not the one who broke her leg _again._ I'm fine."

She bristled only slightly against his words, more grateful for his company- even if his smart mouth had to be endured. "That's not what I'm talking about. I have not seen or heard of you transform since I became a Companion. Why did you?"

Stormy eyes met hers. "And let them find and protect you while I stayed behind? I would have never been able to find you on horse. You are too fast. I did what had to be done. I don't regret it. I'm sure given the set of circumstances, Kodlak understands."

The bard's words came back to her about Vilkas doing whatever it took to keep her safe. That he was the one she _needed._

"Vilkas…"her voice softened, "You shouldn't have done it, not for me."

He cut her off. "I regret nothing."

As she shook her head in disbelief, Farkas and Aela both came jogging into the camp sight.

Vilkas motioned towards the armor on the ground, and the two walked towards it, picking the various pieces up, and dressing. They all had such an air of relaxation about them, as though walking around naked in the middle of a Skyrim winter was_ completely_ normal.

They hadn't even bothered trying to cover themselves up with their hands, modesty seemingly unimportant. Csatari was smart enough, however, that when her eyes caught Farkas' naked calf, she turned her head quickly. She wanted to be able to look him in the eyes tomorrow. Some things were best left to the imagination, anyways. In her mind, Farkas was rock hard everywhere without an ounce of fat, hung like a horse, and _loved_ to make sure a woman got off first. And no one would tell her differently.

Aela and Farkas, once done dressing, sat down on the logs as well. Vilkas was across from her, Farkas sat on the log on her right (the largest log), and Aela sat on the log to the left.

"Harbinger, I'm relieved that you're alright," said Aela.

"I'm ok. Thanks. You know you didn't have to come for me. I mean…I'm grateful that you did but…"

"And what, let you have all the glory, all the fun?" Aela's eyes were glistening with excitement.

"By the way, why did we let him go?"

"Csatari says she wants to use him later for information," Vilkas said, his voice hard.

Farkas and Aela both turned towards her questioning looks on their faces, while she remained staring at Vilkas. "Do you wake up in the morning asking yourself, 'How can I be a bigger _ahole _than I was yesterday?"

"I could ask you the same," he quipped.

"Why must you _always_ bristle against me concerning decisions that I've made? You did the same in the Underforge."

"I have said nothing of the sort," his words clipped.

"Your tone speaks volumes about what you think about me and my position," She replied. "I'm sorry Kodlak didn't make you Harbinger, but don't take it out on me."

He stood up, stalking towards her. "Tell me. What information do you think you'll get out of him?"

She glared at his chest, rather than his eyes, making the lie easier to say. "Important information about other assassination attempts." Another half-truth.

"And why would others want you dead?" he asked, stepping over Aela's feet, nearing her.

"We've already gone over this. I don't know. I'm the first female Harbinger in a long time. Someone must feel threatened."

"I don't think that's the reason. I think there's more to the story…" as he advanced on her, she realized his voice was low, menacing. _Why is he so worked up? _"I think you're hiding things. Things you're not telling me, but should be…"

"I think you're delusional!' she snapped, the pain of her leg now really getting to her. "Let's get back to Jorrvaskr. You can go fuck a bar wench from the party- your normal routine after a night of drinking. You'll feel better, and with any luck you'll get off my ass. " It was a low blow, but there was something in his voice that made her want to rip him apart with her bare hands just to silence him.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, lifting her off the log, forcing her to stand up. "You sit there and judge me?" he shouted, "You- a walking, talking contradiction who wants us to trust her, yet hides _everything_!"

"I know your type, Vilkas. You grew up with the Companions, so you think you can walk into a bar and every woman there should just spread her legs for you. They're all disposable, replaceable- to be used then discarded. Tell me, do you even remember _half_ of their names?" She's screaming at this point as he held her shoulders with such force that she knew it would leave bruises.

"I used them? Did it ever occur to you that most of those women were using me?"

Csatari snorted in reply.

"As you said it, I grew up with the Companions. If one of those women became pregnant after spending a night with me, they know I'd feel honor bound to marry them. They would have a husband, a home, security, protection, someone to take care of them..."

She laughed loudly in his face. "You're telling me that women were trying to manipulate you, hoping to get pregnant, so you'd marry them. Don't make me laugh. No one _sober_ would marry you!"

He was gripping her arms tighter now, and he looked positively livid. She had actually never seen him look this angry.

"Tell me, Csatari, which woman in your life was used by a man unworthy of her? Since you grew up in the orphanage, it couldn't have been your mother or aunts. Who could it have been…"

She was blind with rage, her sight actually growing fuzzy again. How did he know about her life? "Fuck you! You speak of these things as if you have a clue! As if you know about what it's like to be thirteen, alone, with no education, no skills, being told your whole life that you're worthless. To watch those girls sell themselves for a hot meal, with each man a piece of their soul stripped away until they're hollow- walking, talking corpses."

"And you put me in the same category as those men? That's what you think of me?"

"Prove me wrong," she challenged. "Cause nothing that I see shows me you're any different."

His eyes changed color from their icy blue to yellow, and Csatari prepared herself for the beast to burst out.

"Vilkas," Aela said in a calming voice. "She doesn't remember. Csatari hit her head fighting that troll and doesn't remember anything about that night. She told me so in the Underforge."

Vilkas snorted, and Csatari knew it was because of the small lie that Csatari told about why she had no memory. But, his eyes turned blue again.

"What happened that night?" she asked.

It was Farkas who answered. "A guy was beating up a prostitute down on the lower level in Riften and you heard her screaming. You went beserk, just beating on him. But, then you opened your mouth, and you were about to shout. I stopped you as the floor began shaking and yanked you off the guy."

Aela jumped in to the storytelling. "But, as Farkas was holding you back, the guy got up, sucker punching you. That's when it got rough."

"Why?" Csatari asked.

Farkas chimed back in. "Because Vilkas nearly killed the guy right then and there. If you hadn't stopped him and then healed the guy, he would have died."

She turned to her husband still gripping her tightly, eyes intently on hers.

Aela continued. "Then Vilkas shouted at the prostitute for getting herself into the situation in the first place. She said she was from the orphanage, and you explained that the kids don't have any skills or ways to make money. You healed the girl, she had contracted a disease in her line of work, you gave her quite a bit of coin, and then you told her about a farm nearby for seasonal work. It was a place you used to work at. You told her if she was ever in trouble or needed work, to come to you at Jorrvaskr, and you'd help her. She couldn't believe that one of her own had become a Companion. She asked you why you were helping, and you told her that you owed Pearl."

An anvil dropped in her stomach at the name… A name she tried so hard not to think about…

She stood there shaking, Villkas' eyes on her as he finished the story. "After we got her on the carriage safely, we confronted you about what happened with you and the ground shaking. Farkas encouraged you to tell us."

A pit grew in her stomach. "You know," Csatari said, her voice emotionless.

"Yes, _Dragonborn_." Csatari closed her eyes hearing Vilkas call her that name.

"Then what happened?" Csatari pressed, her eyes still shut.

"The carriage pulled up an hour later with the rest of the group. Then we got married."

_Wait, what?_

"I don't understand. You knew everything, and yet you…still married me? Why? After you found out, why didn't you call off the wedding?"

His grip softened on her arms, as his gaze softened. "Is that why you didn't tell me? You thought I'd leave when I found out?"

Csatari felt the last of her defensive walls crumble, and realized with dismay that Vilkas had gotten in. It had only been a few minutes, but it felt as if a lifetime had just passed. She had started fighting because she felt so fragile about everything that had happened. Csatari used it to deflect his questions, and found out somehow that her husband really was…well, _incredible, _violent temper and all.

She swallowed hard. "Because I was afraid that once you knew, you'd leave. Because I knew that once I told you, you'd never look at me the same. Because I'm selfish, and I _need_ you, and I'd rather have left you in the dark and by my side, then risk coming clean. It's wrong of me, I know, and I don't care, because the truth of it is that I'm hanging on to my sanity right now by a thread. I also didn't say it, because if I did, then I'd have to accept it as being true. I mean who the fuck am I? I've been nothing all my life, and now I'm supposed to what? Save the world?" She shook her head in frustration, slumping into Vilkas' grip, the pain in her leg far too great at that point.

"Csatari, the gods _chose_ you. They must know that you'll succeed, or they would have chosen someone else. You're not alone in this. You never were," Vilkas said.

Aela and Farkas walked over, both placing their hands on her shoulder. "We'll do whatever we can to help you," Aela swore, a smile spreading on her face. "As long as you _promise_ to take me dragon hunting. I want a chance at the ultimate predator."

"And I want to go with you to find more of those magic walls. Your face is _hysterical _whenever you touch them," Farkas said.

"What?" she said, blushing. "It's not _my_ fault that _you_ can't hear the music."

"And I want to go to High Hrothgar with you and meet the Grey Beards. No outsider is allowed in," Vilkas said.

Csatari looked at all three of their faces. "Deal."

0000000…

A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading, reviewing, and following. To those reviewing, you give me the warm fuzzies. Thanks! I think I've responded to everyone's review, but if I've missed one, you have my deepest apologies.

I apologize for the delay of this chapter, but I had some problems with ff net. I was banned from posting anything for four days, which is why it's taking so long for this chapter to come out. It was absurd and ridiculous, but if you want to know more...pm me and I'll tell you about it.

On a random side note, I have begun posting original modern day romance fiction on www (dot) fictionpress (dot) com. My screen name on there is slsiwik1982. If interested, please check it out. The story is called: Just Great Friends. I would love to hear your thoughts on my own work.

As always, a thank you to my beta. She had an extra packed week plus holiday and she still found time for little ol' me. You're the best!


	22. Chapter 22

If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
>I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free<br>Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart  
>drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart<br>My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in  
>You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl<br>Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack  
>My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out<br>The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
>I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow'd ground<br>like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins

I want to find you tear out all your tenderness  
>The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress<br>Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest  
>~Howl- Florence and the Machine<p>

00000000…..

_She's flying in the air, soaring, the feel of air beneath her body is incredible. There's a little village below her. She opens her mouth and shouts Yol. The buildings are set on fire, the crops are burning to the ground, and the people are screaming, terrified, running for their lives. They've noticed her now, some stopping to point up at her, and a few draw bows in vain hope. She sets them ablaze before they are able to draw the arrows from their quivers. She can hear their agonizing screams, and she laughs at their stupidity, at their misplaced belief that they could cause any difference. She came to perch on the spire of the temple, watching her handiwork with pride._

The nightmare changes….

_Bulmond is standing in front of her in a field of flowers. She walks to him, arms outstretched. His demeanor is cold, however, his eyes unreadable. She stops dead in her tracks. She just wants to run her hand through his silver pony tail, feel his stubble beneath her fingertips, feel his breath in her ear so she knows that it's him and that she's safe._

"_Bulmond?"_

_His arms are crossed staring at her. "You let me die. It was to be my last job."_

"_No, Bulmond, you wouldn't let me come. Remember? We fought about it before you left."_

"_You should have figured it out."_

_She ran a hand through her hair, and realized with surprised that it wasn't shaved anymore. It was as it were when Bulmond was alive, down past her shoulders, tied back. "I know. I put the pieces together when Galvorn got back to camp without you. I realized he betrayed you. They tried to kill me. It was a big fucking mess. I ran like hell."_

"_Why didn't you figure out he would betray me? It's your fault I'm dead."_

_Her knees gave out as she fell to the ground, red flowers all around her. "I know. I should have figured it out. I should have never let you leave without me. It's all my fault."_

The scene changed before her and suddenly Csatari was in a different field. Different flowers…

_She looks up from the ground and sees Pearl, her childhood friend, standing before her. She's sixteen, her age right before her overdose and death, wearing tattered robes that used to resemble a dress. She's strung out, the black kohl underneath her eyes smeared down her face from crying. She looks like she hasn't eaten in weeks, high on skooma. A sailor suddenly walks across the field toward Pearl, his fingers grabbing her face. "Five septims for a go, that's my offer, whore," he breathes hot into her ear. _

_Pearl looks to her with deadened eyes. "Why didn't you save me? Why didn't you convince me to come with you? Why didn't you try harder?"_

_All she can say is, "I'm sorry." It's not enough. Not by a long shot._

The dream changes…

_She's perched above the village watching it burn. She feels so helpless, so angry. She's glad to watch the entire town fall. She hears the villagers below screaming in pain as they die. They're helpless, but she's not. She's the one with power, with control._

_Let them all burn._

Csatari gasped, sitting up in bed abruptly; sweat pouring down her face, jostling Vilkas in the process who had been sleeping on top of her. She heard him reposition himself on the pillow, returning to snoring next to her, and realized she was in bed in Jorrvaskr.

They had all returned from their "outing" hours ago, and Csatari lied to the other Companion members telling them that the guy had gotten away. It's wasn't technically a lie. He did get away. She was in so much pain, however, that she just wanted to go to sleep, so after a few hours of healing treatments she did. Vilkas had wordlessly slipped into bed next to her, and she hadn't had the strength or energy to protest.

She slid her legs off the side of the bed, sitting on the edge, her head in her hands. She was overwhelmed with emotion, everything she tried so hard to keep locked away coming back to bite her in the ass. She was also disgusted at the end of the nightmare, actually wanting those people to die. Was that her or the previous dragon whose soul she devoured?

That was the dragon. She would never want people to go through that kind of pain. Sitting there, she shifted through the memories. As she thought through the dragon's thoughts, she realized the crucial difference between her and the dragon. Dragons cannot understand love, compassion, or the concept of sacrifice. It was a thin thread she knew, but it was a key difference she needed to hold on to. She didn't _want_ to become a monster.

In the darkness, she felt a hand on her back. "Can't sleep?" his voice drawling the words out in his semi- coherent state.

"Just had a nightmare," she replied, rubbing her eyes. His hand began moving across her back in a soothing motion.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, now sitting up in the bed.

"Not really."

They continued sitting in the dark room in silence. Maybe it was the half-hang over half- drunken state she was in but things started making sense. She needed to move on. Pearl was dead and there was nothing she could do to bring her back. She tried her damnedest to make her follow, to get out of that life, to stop the drugs. She would have done anything to stop Bulmond from being betrayed, from being killed. He was gone, but most importantly, _he wasn't coming back. _

She realized she needed to move on with her life. It had been more than two years. She couldn't lie to herself anymore, she had been waiting for him. She realized with guilt just how little she had been thinking about Bulmond since Vilkas had come into her life, but maybe that's how it should be. The dead belonged with the dead, and the living belonged with those alive. Most importantly, if she didn't let go of this guilt and pain, the dragons would win. She would turn into one of them and lose herself completely.

"Are you coming back to bed?" Vilkas asked.

"I think I'm just going to get some fresh air. Go back to bed. I'll be back soon."

She stood up, grabbing the cane resting against the night stand, walking to the door. Closing the door behind her, she made her way slowly up the stairs one by one. Halfway up, however, she was scooped up into Vilkas' arms as he carried her the rest of the way up. She knew it was him before she even saw his face. No one else would be so damn _stubborn._

"What are you doing? This is really unnecessary. I can walk just fine on my own," she huffed.

"You mean you can hobble just fine on your own. " Csatari looked up to see a smirk forming on his lips, and she growled in frustration. She knew the moment they had entered outside, feeling the chilly air on her skin.

"Alright, alright! Put me down!" she shouted.

He placed her down where they were standing slowly so that Csatari could land on her good leg. "Thanks for helping me," she muttered.

He stood next to her silently. She stared up at the starry sky hoping some clarity would come. Something that would help her make sense of it all. No epiphanies came however, and instead she started feeling more overwhelmed, frustrated, and edgy about the future meet with the bard. She ran her hand through her hair, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"What are you trying to run from?" his voice, despite how gentle it sounded, broke through the silence and made her jump slightly.

She turned towards Vilkas, closing the step between them. "Why are you here?"

Vilkas leveled his gaze before saying, "Because I love you."

Csatari stopped breathing for five heartbeats before drawing breath. Those words had never been spoken to her before by anyone.

"Why?" she asked.

He took a step closer, cupping her cheek. "When you sleep, you talk in a jibberish language and steal all of the covers, you have two left feet, you will _always_ skin your nose to spite your face, you cannot steer a wagon to save your life, I _hate_ your haircut…" Vilkas' voice dropped lower, as he moved to whisper in her ear, "…and when a certain man was dying of rot, you eased his pain, gave him hope, refused his money, and didn't tell a soul what you were doing."

_Kodlak. Vilkas knew I was treating his condition._

"How…how did you know?"

He brushed his lips against hers in reply before continuing on, "And when a particular man was blind with grief when that said man died, you were the one to pull him back. No one I have ever met has done so much being given so little."

She was dumbfounded at his words, and a part of her felt ashamed. She knew she could be doing more, hunting down Jurgen Windbag's prized horn, tooting it, ot whatever else she was supposed to do with the instrument, learning more about being Dragonborn, trying to figure out her purpose. But what had she been doing? Cowering and running like a damn coward.

Bulmond was gone, but Vilkas was at her side. Vilkas wasn't just there, he was _there. _ He was there because he _cared. _He may be moody at times and occasionally arrogant. She may want to choke him to death more often than not, but when it came down to it, when she needed him, he was there trying his best. In the end, that was all that she could ask for. And if she was honest about it and cared to admit it, occassionally she really needed a swift kick in the ass, something he'd have no problem doing. Not that she would _ever_ admit that to him either.

She slid her hands underneath his cotton shirt, her fingertips running up the contours of his muscle. With satisfaction, she heard his breath hitch slightly, although it could have been from the coldness of her digits on his warm skin. Even though they were in the dark, she could see him well and knew that his eyes were on her. "What are you waiting for?" she whispered to him.

His lips came down on hers in a rush.

With gasps and shivers, the two began stumbling backwards towards the dinner table, hands fumbling to grasp one another. Vilkas picked Csatari up, the movement so fluid, he never broke their kiss, and she wrapped her legs around him in return. Dishware was sent flying as Vilkas cleared a path on the table, slamming her down. Fisting his hair, she nipped her way down his neck. He groaned in response loudly before ripping her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. She looked down momentarily at her now exposed breasts before looking up at him. A half- smile encouraged him to continue as he began kissing from her chin, down her throat, to her breasts. As his lips and tongue found purchase with her nipple, she gasped, her fingernails tugging roughly at his hair. Vilkas groaned in response, the noise reverberating against her overheated skin was too much to bear.

He went to grab her hands, to pin them above her head, but Csatari was busy grabbing at his pants, frantically trying to unlace the leathers. He realized what she was trying to do and without his tongue or lips moving from their current location, brushed her hand aside and yanked the leathers undone. She then began trying to untie her own pants, which was difficult with Vilkas lying on top of her. Realizing what she wanted, he stood back up, unlacing her pants, sliding them down her thighs as Csatari lifted her lower half off the table to assist. With her pants now lying in a pile on the stone floor, Vilkas, using the table for support, stepped out of his as well. It was a momentary break, but the two reached for each other, and Csatari internally sighed once feeling his flesh again beneath her fingertips.

Vilkas grabbed her waist roughly sliding her down , so that her rear was hanging halfway off the table. His eyes met hers for the briefest of seconds, his irises so dark- the color of steel, crazed, and she realized that he only held on to enough coherence to ask-just barely enough. She nodded, a quick jerk of her head, and he captured her mouth as he swiftly entered her. She screamed out in pleasure, but he continued kissing her, muffling the sound. A small part of her mind wondered if he had been expecting her reaction. The pleasure was so intense, so extreme, it felt surreal.

He was a perfect fit.

There was nothing particularly romantic or sweet about their lovemaking- bordering on violence more than anything. Desperation leaking out of both of them, Csatari realized there was anticipation in Vilkas' eyes as though _after_ this, he would achieve something desperately sought after. Still kissing him, her teeth nipping at his upper lip, she placed her hands on his rear, encouraging him deeper.

"Your leg," he panted out, "We should go slow."

She dug her nails into the fleshy part of his rear, shoving her hips up simultaneously, driving him in deeper. He groaned loudly, his head falling back, his eyes closing.

"It's fine. Go faster."

Whatever scrap of self-restraint he had been holding on to, Csatari could almost literally see fall to the ground in a heap alongside their clothes. Vilkas collected Csatari in his arms, holding her close, as he began driving himself into her. Her nails scratched down his shoulder blades, biting his shoulder to muffle the sound, desperate for release, for _relief._

The only sounds she could hear was their labored breaths, the noise so loud in her ear, it drowned out everything else. She was lost in their own little world there on the outside dining room table in the Jorvaskr training courtyard.

Vilkas pounded himself into her not as though they were making love, but rather their bodies were on some unstoppable collision course. The table squeaked in protest beneath them, shuddering against their violent actions. The coiling began in the pit of her stomach, knowing what was coming, hurrying for the finish.

Her fingernails dug into his back hard enough to draw blood. In retaliation, he bit down on her shoulder blade, and a strangled cry of pain and pleasure erupted.

"So damn close, Vilkas, please…"was all she was able to get out.

He released her upper body, and as she slammed back down onto the table, his finger moved between them, applying pressure. She grabbed on to the edges of the table as white spots filled her vision. His other hand roughly grabbed her waist holding on to her as Csatari felt him shudder on top of her, the force of his climax bringing her over the edge.

He stood above her still holding on, shaking, his eyes closed, panting. She herself was still breathing raggedly, trying to figure out what had just happened.

She never heard the door open or bang shut, never heard the sound of his footsteps against the stone floor. She did hear his words, however.

"Sorry. Couldn't sleep. Got a cramp in my leg. Didn't mean to-"

Just by the sound of his voice, Csatari knew exactly who was standing in front of them. With horror, her head whipped in the direction of the voice to find an apologetic face staring back. "Farkas."

She grabbed at her tattered shirt, her fingers cinching it closed, trying to hold on to her last shred of dignity…with Vilkas still _inside_ her.

"I- I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over us. We weren't thinking-" she stammered out.

Her eyes flashed from Farkas to Vilkas, and she went from horror to shock. Vilkas was glaring at Farkas _furiously._

"I'll head inside now," Farkas said, nearly running for the door.

Csatari closed her eyes, covering her face with her hand. She felt Vilkas slip out of her, and she placed her good foot down to stand up. Sliding down off the table, she moved to grab her pants. Vilkas was faster, handing them to her, as she muttered a thanks, unable to look him in the eyes. With shaking hands, she worked to put her pants back on, and once secured around her waist, she wrapped the ripped ends of her shirt around herself, securing it in place with her arm across her waist.

She wanted to die of embarrassment. She'd take pretty much any other situation over this catastrophe. Taking on an elder dragon with nothing but a pocket dagger ? No problem. Kill the entire Dark Brotherhood guild by herself? Just point her in the right direction. Anything would be better than _this._

Because _this_ was exactly what she had been trying to avoid all along.

She began hobbling back towards her cane to make her way back down to her bedroom. Halfway there, Vilkas stopped her with a hand on her arm. "You're not going to speak to me?"

She let out a frustrated sigh, running her hand through her hair. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything!" he shouted, his hand up in the air in frustration.

"I am mortified that your brother just caught us having sex like we're two stupid kids who don't know any better."

"Why does this upset you so much? Farkas knows we're married. What we're doing is normal. And he's seen you naked before."

"Wait…what?"

"The first night you transformed, you were too much for just Skjor and Aela. Vilkas and I had to help out to keep you under control. You were in and out of consciousness for a while, shifting shapes. He accidentally got a peak," Vilkas said in a calm, matter-of-fact voice.

Csatari had no idea a person was capable of reaching this level of mortification. She prayed that she would burst into flames at any moment.

"So, why are you so upset?'' he asked again.

"Which of the hundred answers would you like me to give, Vilkas?" she snapped.

"Any of them! I'll settle for at least one!" he shouted back.

"How am I supposed to look your brother in the eye after tonight?" she asked.

"There should be very little awkwardness between you two," his voice had a distinct edginess, his eyes overtly defensive.

"You don't understand!" she shouted. She sighed, listening to her words, realizing their truth. He didn't understand, and she had never bothered to explain.

She hobbled over to the nearest chair, sitting down, trying to figure out how in the hell to explain it all.

"Vilkas, your brother….I need him," she said.

As a pained look crossed his face, Csatari tried to explain, "Not the way you think. Please, let me try to explain how I feel."

Still weary, he sat down in a seat beside her, waiting.

"I'm not good with talking about myself, or how I feel, and I'm pretty awful in social situations….but, talking to your brother, it all felt pretty damn effortless. He was just so accepting, and understanding, I unburdened myself in ways that I've never before in my entire life. Falling in love with your brother was effortless; it was as easy as breathing. With you…" she let out a ragged breath, her hand running through her hair. "It's like someone has ripped out the earth beneath me, and I'm just falling into this unknown, and I'm _frightened_, and I'm worried I'll never feel ground beneath me again. What I want- what I need is to keep my friendship with your brother."

He stood up suddenly, his words coming out rushed. "It's not that simple…"

"Why not? Are you so insecure that I have to be punished for us marrying? You either trust me or you don't, Vilkas, it's as simple as that."

He grabbed her arms roughly, she staring back at him defiantly. "He loves you, too. Did you know that? I didn't realize until our wedding, I…." He appeared lost in his memories, in his thoughts.

After the shock wore off, she realized strangely that the situation was still the same.

"And?" He stared at her, his eyes searching hers. "It doesn't change anything." His eyes kept searching, looking for answers. "If he had told me how he felt before we got married, that would be a different story. But, we _are _married. For better or for worse, we're stuck with each other. Your brother is a good man…"she cupped his chin forcing him to let go of her arm. "But, so are you."

"Do you mean what you say?" his hand now resting on top of hers.

"Every word."

He sighed in relief, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly. "Is that what you've been so tense about?" she asked. He nodded still holding her close. "You have nothing to fear," she whispered in his ear.

"And what about you? What is haunting your dreams? What are you running from?" he asked.

"Vilkas, what would you do if you woke up and found out that your entire life was a lie? Everything you've ever known was not as it seemed? It's how I feel with this whole Dragonborn business, with my uncle suddenly showing up out of nowhere." Csatari regarded him for a moment before adding, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. If we weren't drunk when we got married, I would have never dragged you into this- into this life."

His head tilted sideways, a half smile forming on his lips. "And what life would that be? A life of adventure, legendary tales, heroism? A life of noble battles against well-matched foes?"

Csatari shook her head. "A life without children…so that they don't have to watch their mother continuously leave to fight dragons wondering if she'll return. The name for me in our tongue is Dragonborn, but in dragon tongue it's Dovahkiin- dragon hunter. This isn't going to end any time soon, Vilkas. Once the novelty has worn off for you, and it's taken a toll on every aspect of our lives, I'll still be bound to this life. I_ can't_ walk away."

He nodded, beginning to understand the burden she felt. His fingertips brushed her cheek. "We'll figure it out _together_."

For the first time, Csatari finally leaned in to his hand, closing her eyes, and accepting his touch.

"Vilkas," she whispered, "I think it's best if we don't tell Farkas that I know how he feels about me."

"Agreed," he replied, picking her up, carrying her downstairs to the bedroom. Lying down on the bed, Vilkas turned to her in the dark, his fingertips grazing across the ripped hem of her shirt, slowly pulling it away from her body. His fingers then ran the length of her upper body on the newly exposed flesh. She shuttered at his gentle touch, and when he looked up at her with that cocky grin she was beginning to love, she rolled her eyes, saying, "I suppose practice _does_ make perfect."

0000…

A/N: So sorry for how long this chapter took. Having some technical difficulties. It's been a really bad month. Anyways, this chap. Is unbetaed due to a nasty comp. virus. Sorry for any errors I didn't catch. Everything should be back to normal next chap. Hope you enjoyed. Thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing, and subscribing.


	23. Chapter 23

**I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation  
>You're living in the past, it's a new generation<br>A girl can do what she wants to do and that's what I'm gonna do  
>An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation<br>Oh no, not me  
>An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation<br>Never said I wanted to improve my station  
>An' I'm only doin' good when I'm havin' fun<br>An' I don't have to please no one  
>An' I don't give a damn 'bout my bad reputation<br>Oh no, not me, oh no, not me  
>I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation<br>I've never been afraid of any deviation  
>An' I don't really care if ya think I'm strange<br>I ain't gonna change  
>An' I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation<br>The world's in trouble, there's no communication  
>An' everyone can say what they wanna say<br>It never gets better, anyway**

**~Bad Reputation- Joan Jett **

0000000…

When Csatari woke up, she found the bed empty. The pillows still smelled like Vilkas, a woodsy aroma, like the fragrant smell of wood burning, a smell she associated with warmth and comfort. She stepped out of bed, changing into a clean linen shirt, one not ripped apart by her husband, and walked up stairs. She found Vilkas sitting in a corner chair with a parchment and quill writing something intently. Everyone else seemed to be finishing up breakfast. Walking into the room, Vilkas glanced up, smiling warmly at her. It was new-this warm, friendly, loving side of him-and she was ridiculously smitten with this part of his personality. She smiled back, feeling strangely unsure of herself as she bit her lower lip in nervousness. Butterflies flapped their wings wildly in her stomach, and she wondered why.

"I wanted to let you sleep." His grin turned mischievous. "You looked like you needed your rest."

A blush crept up her neck, deepening on her cheeks. Csatari turned, sitting down in her seat at the table, the seat that used to be Kodlak's. Skjor's seat still remains empty out of respect, and out of fear of Aela's wrath. Csatari picks up h er usual breakfast food, a delicious, amazing sweetroll. Tilma, once realizing they were her favorite, began making them daily for her. Bless that woman's heart.

Farkas and Vilkas, one on each side, was who she always sat next to now sitting in Kodlak's chair. She leaned over to Farkas, who was already starting his morning out with a tankard of mead, and whispered, "I'm really sorry for last night."

He smiled wide and easy going, his normal Farkas smile. "Don't worry about it."

She smiled back; it was impossible not to smile at Farkas' normal warmth, seen in his happy smile and his quiet eyes. He was never troubled by anything, and it made it so easy to let go of you worries being around him. Vilkas sat down in his seat next to her, leaving behind his parchment and quill. He leaned in, kissing her cheek and Csatari couldn't help but smile. Bulmond never kissed her outside of their tent, and this public display of affection she found herself liking very much. She understood why Bulmond never did, however, it was to keep her safe. She was the only female in an otherwise all male mercenary band. He kept their physical contact to a minimum as he put it, "To keep the men's fire in their loins to a minimum." Bulmond had worried that one of the mercenaries might try to hurt or rape Csatari as a way of hurting their leader. Csatari realized just how wise Bulmond was after his death. Kodlak reminded her of Bulmond in his counsel- the way he always thought ideas through from every angle before proceeding.

"Why do you like sweet rolls so much?" Vilkas asked in honest curiosity. A nervous laugh erupted from her lips, surprised by the question.

She bit her lower lip. "Do you really want to know?"

Vilkas nodded, his ice blue eyes watching intently. She blushed, feeling strange that no one has ever asked her this before.

"The night I met Bulmond, I was in Windhelm down to my last semptims. It was a bad harvest that year; no one was hiring farm hands. The smith that I normally worked for in the winters just took on a man's second son as an apprentice and couldn't take me in that year. The only option I could figure was to head out to a mine and try my luck. At least I would be sheltered for the winter. Bulmond was in the same tavern as me, and I guess he had been watching me. To make a long story short, he bought me a large breakfast, and one of the foods was a sweet roll. It was the first sugary treat I had ever eaten before. He told me to join his mercenary band and that he would take care of me and train me. I left with him and started my life as a warrior. Eating that sweet roll," she held up the half-eaten one in her hand. "Was the first time I ever felt hope in my entire life. I really thought the end had come, and I really didn't think I'd make it through that winter. Somehow, I knew that day, eating that breakfast that it would be alright."

His eyes held some strange emotion that Csatari didn't understand. He kissed her forehead, offering a small smile.

"Did I say something wrong?" She asked, left with the distinct impression that he was uneasy with her response.

"Not at all. Thank you for telling me something personal. I enjoy when you tell me private things." His words were soft and low in her ear, but his eyes and facial expression were at odds with what he was saying to her. She offered a tight lipped smile, continuing to eat.

When breakfast was done, Vilkas asked, "Are we going to work on your reading today?"

"Actually, maybe later. I want to do some smithing today," she replied. He seemed surprised by her response but smiled mirthlessly.

Csatari raised from her seat, walking back downstairs from her room, taking out the dwarven metal ingots sitting in the bottom of her chest. Her first job for the Companions, when she was still an initiate was to clear out Shimmerist Cave, it was a dank nasty place that contained chauruses and Falmer and connected partly to an old Dwarven ruin. She took out the scrap metal from the place melting it down to ingots, trying to figure out what to do with them. On the job, she was poisoned by a chaurus and when Lydia helped her out of the ruin, Csatari was in bad shape. She had no idea how, but when they met the sun light, Farkas and Vilkas were there on horseback. Despite Vilkas' protests, she swore they were sneaking up on her. But, seeing her with fever, Farkas gave her his horse, and they all walked back to Whiterun together, and Csatari received treatment. The job, besides being poisoned, was a source of great pride for her. She had survived the job when many had perished and ended the Falmer's capture of humans and elves. Csatari wanted to create for Vilkas a new bow, to replace his broken one, as a true wedding gift with a very personal touch. She couldn't knit for him or embroider a gift like many woman could, but she could forge him a weapon to keep him safe.

Taking out the dwarven ingots, tanned leather hides and some steel and iron ingots- she really had no idea what she'd need- Csatari set off for the Sky Forge where she would wait for Eorlund. An hour later, the older man walked stoically up the steps.

His patient eyes asked what she was doing.

"I thought you and I could help each other. I need you to teach me how to make a Dwarven bow."

He interrupted her by harrumphing, "It's been a long time since I made that Elf stuff. I don't think I remember how."

Her jaw set, crossing her arms. "That's a real shame. You see, after you helped me make this bow, I was going to leave tonight and go find your son." His eyes widened just a fraction from their normal stoic gaze. "You see, Vilkas is going to be furious with me for being involving myself with political affairs. I've gotta sleep with him at night, though, so think of the bow, a gift to him, as a way for me to…temper his wrath."Eorlund stood there for a moment, saying nothing, so she added, "I know Restoration Magic, if he's wounded, and I'll gladly heal him. And if he's dead…" Her voice grew quiet. "I'll bring his body back for a proper burial, and I'll kill whoever was responsible…savagely."

He stands there for another moment as stoic as ever before replying, "Dwarven bows are the easiest to make out of all the weapons. The trick comes in how to stamp the metal. Let me see what you have as supplies." Csatari smiled widely.

0000….

Four hours later, and several, "May the Divines take you, Harbinger, I've lost my patience!" at Csatari's shouts, "I won't have good; it must be perfect for him!" they were completed. She wanted Vilkas to know, even if she would never outwardly say it, that she poured her love and energy into making that weapon. As she hammered away at the metal, shaping it to its design on the anvil, she wondered if Vilkas would know the hope she felt that this strange pairing could actually work, that they would find themselves happy with each other. They ended up making two bows to solve the problem- one as a practice bow to work on stamping the identifying swirls synonymous with Dwarven work, and the second one for her husband.

When she was done tempering the metal, Csatari thanked a huffing Eorlund, finding the whole experience incredible. She had spent the day working and training with the greatest master smith in all of Skyrim, with the greatest forge in all of Tamriel. People would kill to be her today as Eorlund refused to take on any apprentices. She loved every minute of hammering away at the metal, and when she wanted to throw the hammer into the fire in frustration, she refrained. Smithing always helped to calm her nerves- something about the rhythmic manner of hammering out metal soothed her.

Csatari walked down the steps with bows in hand, trying to figure out just how to present the weapon to the Companion's Master at Arms. She didn't want to make a big scene, giving it to him at dinner since she wasn't giving everyone a bow.

"I thought you might like this," she spoke to the air, trying out different phrases. No, that sounded stupid.

"Your old bow was crap. Here's a better one." She shook her head at that one too.

Maybe she should just try being honest. "I crafted this for you as a wedding present made from metal I collected on my first job here."

"It looks finely made." The voice stopped her in her tracks. She nearly ran into her husband, sitting on the ground near the Underforge.

She stared at him quizzically. "What are you doing down there?"

He smiled wolfishly. "I was enjoying listening to Eorlund's threats. I've never heard the man lose his patience like that before."

Csatari rolled her eyes. "He's a big kitty cat…and a pretty good teacher."

"Did you have fun?" he asked. His face seemed so genuinely interested in the answer.

She nodded, smiling ear to ear. Glancing down at the bows in her hand, she held out the better one. His fingers ran along the metal before pulling back the string as though about to shoot an arrow. "Excellent tension."

Vilkas stood up, closing the few steps between them. "This was well-made."

He placed the bow down on the ground before wrapping his arms around her tightly. The metal of his armor pressed against her only clothed body as he hugged her so tightly that she could barely breathe. He kissed her lips, still hugging her. "Thank you," he murmured against her skin. Gods almighty, the butterflies were flying full force in her lower belly.

His lips, slightly chapped, but soft, and more importantly warm, tasting just like him, press against hers earnestly. Csatari buried her head in his neck, inhaling deeply. How long they stayed like that, she didn't know, but finally he pulls back, smiling. "I'm going to retrieve my quiver to see what she can do."

Csatari blushed, nodding, taking a seat down in a chair on the patio. Vilkas comes back shortly, his new bow in hand, his quiver strapped to his back. Csatari watched as he pulled an arrow out, pulling back the string, lining up his shot.

"Wanna spar?" a voice asked. Csatari glanced up to see Farkas standing there. Her leg felt very healthy today and she walked without pain. If she was going to fight for Eorlund's son tomorrow, she might as well realize what she's capable of now. Besides, her sword arm was itching to be used.

"You have to take it easy on me. I'm still not completely healed," she warned, returning her eyes to Vilkas, seeing his arrow hit the bull's eye. Prided radiated through her body that the bow seems to be working well for him.

"We'll work on sword and shield techniques then. No actual hard sparring then."

She nodded, turning back to Farkas before standing up. "I'll go get my equipment."

000…

Cold, icy blue eyes watched her like a hawk as she walked out with her iron shield and sword. She had enchanted her Skyforge sword, the one given on the day she became a full-fledged member of the Companions, so she didn't use that one for training- rather a simple iron sword she crafted for practice. The shield she used was the only momento she had of Bulmond's. Csatari was smart enough to lock it up in a hidden chest buried from underbrush long forgotten about just before the Imperials grabbed her. Once she was free, she had gone back and retrieved the sacred item. She knew it was nothing short of luck that she placed the item in the trunk just before the bastards grabbed her, and it was also luck that it was still there when she returned. Csatari knew it was his and not some other random shield because of the engraving that circled the handle. _Fight like you'll never die._ Bulmond had the smith etch it onto his shield during the Great War when he was young, afraid of the travesty he witnessed-more of a slaughtering than an actual war according to him, and unsure why he had even signed up for the Imperial Army. He gave her the shield when she joined his band of mercenaries and was now the only thing left of him. Nowadays, she used the shield during training, so that a piece of him was always with her. Old habits die hard.

Farkas picked up a steel sword and shield from the table and joined her out in the court yard. Despite Vilkas being the Master at Arms, responsible for training and working with all members and initiates, Farkas is the one who trained her. She had hated working with Vilkas so much that she simply let him beat the snot out of her, laid on the ground, and refused to get up. After several practices ending the exact same way, despite an angry and frustrated Vilkas, Kodlak assigned Farkas to be her trainer. Honestly, the situation at the time couldn't have worked out better in her opinion…at the time.

"Get into position," Farkas instructed.

She moved into stance, Farkas right next to her. "Training exercise one."

Csatari began the exercise, now like muscle memory to her, against the wooden dummy before her, Farkas next to her doing the same. They completed the exercise three times, before she heard Vilkas say, "You'll never learn anything beating up a piece of wood. You should try your moves on someone real." There was a distinct edge to his voice, and she turned to her husband confused. He couldn't possibly be angry that she was training with Farkas. It wasn't as though they were doing it in secret; they were right by him. He wasn't even touching her for gods' sakes!

In one of the only times in her life, Csatari decided to remain quiet, watching Vilkas, instead of shooting off her mouth. Vilkas walked over to the training table, picking up a practice shield and sword. He walks back down the steps, beckoning for her to come towards him. Csatari glanced up nervously at Farkas to find a normally calm Farkas seem nervous. She stepped towards her husband, reminding him, "I'm still getting over my injury. You have to go easy on me."

"You're the Harbinger; I'm sure you can handle what I dish out, _Dragonborn._" His smile was so vicious, the hair on the back of her neck stood on edge.

"Very well, _husband_, let's see what you've got."

Csatari crouched low as they danced around each other, both eyeing the other up, looking for weakness, for vulnerabilities. He feigned right, but smacked her outer left thigh hard with the flat of his blade. She hissed in pain from the slap.

"Stop leaving your left flank exposed."

They circled each other as she bared her teeth, looking for his opening. He aggressively moved forward, and thinking he'd hit her body, she covered herself with her shield. Instead, he slapped her outer thigh again hard.

"Stop. Leaving. Your. Left. Flank. Exposed." The words came out through gritted teeth.

Csatari lost her composure, charging at him. His shield came up, catching her blow, and he countered quickly. Csatari barely raised her shield in time to catch his blade's edge.

They circled each other, both knowing the stakes had somehow been raised in the span of a few moments. The other Companions spilled out onto the patio, watching the sparring match.

"That's a terribly old shield. Why don't you make a new one," Vilkas hissed.

"I like it just fine," Csatari growled back before striking a blow that Vilkas barely caught with his shield.

He turned in a blindingly fast move, dropping his sword to the ground and ripped the shield with all of his might out of her hand. His strength was nearly super human as Csatari stares in shock to the shield in his hand before he throws it with all his might at the stone wall encasing Whiterun.

She screamed at the top of her lungs as she watched the shield shatter into three separate pieces. The fury that built inside her was explosive, and her body shook as the anger awoke the barely contained power within her. She pulled back her arm, punching him with all of her might. Her blow landed squarely in his eye, as her leg came out tripping him. He fell backwards and she jumped on top of him, punching him without remorse or control.

"It's just a shield. You can make another," He spit out in between punches. The rage exploded in her, and she could feel the power building in her throat. At the last minute, she turned from Vilkas, staring up at the beautiful sky as the fire exploded from deep within, up her throat, and into the air above them. "Yol Toor!"

The ground, walls, and city shook from the incomplete shout. When she closed her mouth, feeling slightly drained of all of her hate, she glanced at the Companions who all stared with their mouths wide open.

"Yeah, I'm the Dragonborn. Forgot to mention that before. So, now you know."

They all blinked, but Aela smirked, not at all surprised, and Farkas stood there as calm as can be. Csatari caught sight of the table standing before them, however, the table that they had made love on the night before, and the anger overtook her again. How could she sleep with him? How could she let him in? He was always going to be the same insensitive asshole. They would always fight viciously. They didn't belong together. This was all some horrible mistake. Csatari stood up, charging towards the table, grabbing it, and throwing it out into the courtyard near the Underforge, the tankards and plates that had been on the table thrown all over the place.

"Flames," she commanded and through her will alone, fire sprung to her palms, the flames dancing along her skin, as she directed it towards the table, spraying the wood in fire, as she watched her shame and regret be consumed.

Vilkas was now standing, staring at her, horror struck. His eye was swelling, his lip cut, and blood dripped from his nose. "Now I don't have to keep being reminded of _that_ mistake." She wielded the words like a sword, intending to inflict pain.

"Are you going to set your bed on fire too, then? What about the hallway walls?" He spat back, recovering quickly from his surprise to snark at her.

"Don't tempt me." The words came out low and menacing. Csatari walked over, picking up the broken pieces of the shield, hoping maybe somehow it could be repaired. It seemed unlikely, though as she held the old, brittle pieces in her hand. If she knew how to cry, she would be right now. Charging into the mead hall, the table still in flames, while the Companions jumped to clear out of her way, she walked down stairs, placing the pieces gingerly back into her trunk. The bow she had created was lying across her bed, and she scoffed at the offending weapon. She walked out the front door, and charged across the little bridge, around the Gildergreen tree, towards the Grey-Mane house. She knocked on the door, too loudly and quickly to be considered polite, as Fralia, Eorlund's wife, opened the door.

"Yes?" she asked with wide, expressive eyes.

"Where's your son being held? I'm getting him back."

Her mouth opened in shock, and her pale blue eyes lit up. "My Thorald?"

Csatari crossed her arms, her head jerking in a nod. The elder woman clasped her hands as tears ran down her face. Csatari withdrew, recoiling inwardly at the sight. How did people do that so easily, just turn the water on? How did they do it at all?

"Come in, come in." The woman ushered her through the doorway, closing the door behind them. The Grey-Mane house was fairly large, with doors leading into unknown rooms, an expansive kitchen and living room, and stairs that led to the second floor. It had to be the largest house in the city. A towering man walked out of one of the unknown rooms wearing hide armor. "We don't know if she can be trusted. She could be a spy for the Battle-Borns."

Csatari bristled against his accusation that she was a traitor. "Sit down, ham hock, before you hurt yourself."

His nostrils flared as he drew a war hammer from his back. "What did you call me?"

"You want to go up against the Harbinger of the Companions?" She smiled widely. "It'll be your funeral."

"Stop this right now!" Fralia screamed at the top of her lungs. "Put your weapon away now!" she instructed her son. "She's trying to help us!"

He begrudgingly placed his weapon down on the ground against the wall. "The Battle-Borns know something. They know where he is. You have to break into their house and find out where they're holding him. It's written down somewhere."

She threw her hands up in frustration. "Seriously? You are unbelievable! Do you have any lock picking tools?"

Fralia pulled out of her house dress's pockets all the tools needed. She'd have to watch that woman more closely in the future. Does she moonlight as a burglar? Csatari took the tools from the woman and walked out the front door not saying another word.

Csatari wasn't a great lock picker, and she certainly wasn't sneaky. What she needed was a distraction. She threw her hands up in the air, screaming, "There's a dragon by the front gate!"

The guards ran, and as one passed by her, shouted, "Aren't you coming with us?"

"I can't. I was injured in battle. You'll have to kill this one for me. I'll devour its soul afterwards."

The guards gulped, shuttering before running off, leaving the Wind District rather empty. Csatari walked over to the Battle-Born door, glancing through the lock, placing the tumbler and pin into position, trying to hear the clicking sound of where to turn. As she fought with the door lock- it seemed nothing wanted to cooperate today- she heard from behind her, "Hello."

Csatari glanced around to see a young boy standing there with blonde hair and blue eyes, smiling at her.

She pulled the tools out of the door, giving him a tight smile. "Hi."

"You're not supposed to be doing that," he informed her slyly.

She nodded, wordlessly, and he sighed dramatically. She raised her brow at his performance. "Problems?"

He nodded slowly. "This girl. She keeps taking my money and threatening me. It's terrible!"

Csatari could practically see the gears turning in the boy's head. "If you help me with my problem, I'll get you whatever you're looking for in the house." He smiles brightly. "I live there."

She crouched down to be eye level with the boy. "Do you know anything about Thorald Grey-Mane disappearing?"

The boy frowned. "No, but my papa wrote it down in a journal. I know where it is."

"I'll deal with the girl if you bring me that journal."

The little boy sighed in relief. "Deal."

Csatari stood up, glancing around. "So, tell me who I'm dealing with."  
>0000…..<p>

Csatari stood before a young girl who was one of the Gray-Man clan members- honestly, she couldn't keep them all straight there were so many- as the girl tried throwing a punch. Csatari caught the girl's fist in her palm. "What's your problem with Lars?"

"Why do you care?" The girl spit back.

"I'm his body guard."  
>The girl's tough exterior crumbled. "I wouldn't beat him up if he just kissed me. He plays with all the other girls in the city. Why aren't I good enough?" Her lower lip pouted.<p>

Csatari sighed. "You're asking the wrong person to try and understand male behavior. I'm twice your age, and they're still a mystery to me. Do yourself a favor and forget about him now. He'll do nothing but cause you heartache. A sword, however, will never do you wrong." She sighed, glancing at the girl's deflated look. "I'll go talk to him for you."

The girl perked up at the comment, smiling brightly as Csatari walked away, from the steps of the Wind District, when the guards were beginning to realize there was no dragon flying about.

In front of the Battle-Born house, the boy stood there nervously. "She's not a problem anymore. But, she likes you. If you give her a kiss, she'll beat up everyone who tries to hurt you instead." Csatari shrugged. "Just a thought."

The boy glanced at her, exasperated. "She's a Grey-Mane! Papa will kill me."

Csatari frowned at the boy. "You can't help who you fall in love with. Trust me."

His face crinkled as he handed out the leather journal, which Csatari took, walking away, hoping that the boy was right about what it contained within.

She charged back towards the Grey-Mane house and once inside tossed the book to Avulstein. "What does it say?" he asked.

"I don't know," she snapped back. "I didn't have a chance to read it as I was trying to avoid being arrested for trespassing and burglary."

Avulstein quickly flipped through the pages. _Wow. He's a fast reader. _"The Thalmor have him. It's worse than I feared."

"Does it say where he is?"

Avulstein nodded. "I can have a dozen men at my command tonight. I'm not coming home without my brother."

Csatari nodded curtly. "We'll meet at the city gates by the second bell."

0000000…

A/N: Sorry for the super long time for another chapter. I had some personal health issues to take care of. But, I'm back, and I'll try to update this weekly. To make up for how long you waited, I made this a double long chapter.

Thanks for all the support.

Reviews=Love.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: WARNING! Violentish fight scenes. (I tried keeping the gore to a minimum). Also, references to sexual encounters between our two lovebirds.

Thanks for the support! I also think that this song should be Csatari's theme song. LOL

000000….  
>Another one bites the dust<br>And another one gone, and another one gone  
>Another one bites the dust<br>Hey, I'm gonna get you too  
>Another one bites the dust<p>

How do you think I'm going to get along,  
>Without you, when you're gone<br>You took me for everything that I had,  
>And kicked me out on my own<p>

There are plenty of ways you can hurt a man  
>And bring him to the ground<br>You can beat him  
>You can cheat him<br>You can treat him bad and leave him  
>When he's down<br>But I'm ready, yes I'm ready for you  
>I'm standing on my own two feet<br>Out of the doorway the bullets rip  
>Repeating the sound of the beat<p>

~Queen- Another One Bites The Dust

0000000…

Csatari stomped to Dragonsreach, finding Lydia at a table eating an apple.  
>"Get ready and meet me at the front gate," Csatari instructed.<p>

The housecarl glanced up with a glazed look in her eyes. "Are we heading out?"

Csatari nodded. "Dress warmly. We'll be surrounded by snow."

"Yes, my Thane. I am your sword and shield."  
>Csatari huffed in annoyance. No matter what, those words would never sound or feel normal to her. "Right now, I'd settle for you being in armor. Meet me at gate when you hear the bell."<p>

Turning around, Csatari turned for the exit.

She took the stairs one at a time back down to the Wind District-unlike her normal two at a time. She did not want to go back to Jorvaskr yet and face everyone, especially him. But, she had to, she needed her armor and supplies before making the long journey. Csatari stepped inside, but no one spoke, simply eyed her as she tiptoed her way down stairs.

She should have known he'd be waiting for her, sitting on her bed with his hands clasped together, his elbows resting on his thighs. Ignoring him, she began dressing, wearing two layers of shirts, pants and socks before latching on her iron armor, not her new armor that Vilkas gave her. She'd fight in her old armor; it had been good enough for her all this while. Why not now?

As she strapped on the pieces, he remained quiet. When she finally slid her foot into the armored boots, he asked, "Where are you going?"

"Out. On a job," she replied tersely while sliding two daggers into her boots. The extra pair of socks kept the knives from moving anywhere.

"Alone?" His voice was far too quiet to be normal.

"No, Lydia's coming." Csatari opened her trunk, taking out health and magic potions and anything else that seemed usable. As strange as it sounded, Bulmond gave the advice that whenever travelling to the northern end of Skyrim, one should always bring a rope attached to a hook. It could save your life on more than one occasion. So, she always followed the rule, and threw her tied up rope into the bag. As she walked towards the door, Vilkas said, "Must I compete with a ghost?"

Confused, she turned to see his face eerily calm. That honestly scared her more than his fits of anger. "He gave you that shield, didn't he? When it broke, that's why you exploded."

Gritting her teeth, Csatari turned to leave. His words stopped her. "He's gone, Csatari. You promised you would make an honest effort in this marriage."

She snorted at his words. "An honest effort? You are the same insensitive asshole that you were the day we met. You haven't changed a bit." The anger and sadness erupted inside her. "He's gone, Vilkas! There is no competition! I'm left with you! You couldn't even leave me with the one thing left of him? The one thing left of my past?" She threw her hands up in the air. "Nope! You had to take that from me too!" She turned, stalking towards him, her hands balled in a fist. Whether she would hit him or not, remained to be seen.

"That shield is all that I have from my entire life before showing up here at Jorvaskr. My life boils down to that piece of iron weaponry."

His face remained emotionless. "I gave the shield pieces to Eorlund. He says he can repair it, but he'll have to use steel, because the metal is so weak. The Skyforge steel will make it stronger than before."

She wanted to punch the wall and somehow found the restraint not to punch him again. If the pieces weren't put together exactly as before, the words wouldn't make any sense. Not that she could read them now, but she read the phrase with Bulmond and committed it to memory. It was important that it was just so. Csatari shook her head and turned for the door. She refused to heal his bruised face, cut lip, and nose full of dried blood.

"How long will you be gone?" he asked.

She walked away from him, pack in hand, throwing the words over her shoulder. "A few days."

"Why so long?" His voice ached with sadness and regret, yet she still heard a twinge of skepticism.

Csatari closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. She hated him. He didn't deserve to know the reason why. Refusing to answer his question, she said, "He's dead, and you're alive. I wish it were the other way around; you were gone, and he was still here. The world would be a better place then. This marriage was a mistake; a stupid decision made after too many ales. If I'm stuck with this life then I just want to go back to the rules you set up and follow them. And whatever you do, _don't_ touch me."

Csatari walked out of the room. If she was going to be fighting elves, there was really only one weapon suitable. Opening the case before her, Csatari took out the fabled Wuuthrad.

"Hello, sexy," she purred at the weapon before giving the polished blade a kiss. Strapping the weapon securely on her back, sliding it into the leather holder, Csatari walked for the door towards things that made sense.

The crisp air felt good against her heated skin as she made her way down the stairs two at a time as the bell chimed. She smiled, walking off towards the gate. There were two things Csatari understood how to do well: lead men into battle with the least amount of casualties, and kill anything and everything that got in her way.

Avulstein stood there with two other soldiers. So much for the small army he was going to raise. Seeing Csatari walk down into the Plains District, he asked, "Are you ready to leave?"

"Just a moment. We're waiting for one more."

His nostrils flared. "My brother is in Thalmor hands! We can't wait!"

Csatari approached the hysterical Gray-Mane, the other warriors watching the confrontation intently. "Steady yourself. I gave your father my word that his son will come back alive. So, you will wait, because my warrior is worth the two of yours." She stared him square in the eye. "And I have no problem putting that to the test."

He frowned, crossing his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Where's your winter furs? You're wearing scaled armor with naked arms. It's going to be freezing up there."

He grunted. "We're true Nords. We're fine against the cold."

Csatari rolled her eyes. Stupidity happened to any race of men or mer it seemed. It didn't matter if you were a Nord or not, enough exposure to the cold and you'd lose your fingers all the same. Csatari had watched that first hand. It was not pretty watching appendages turn black.

She shook her head at their ridiculousness as Lydia walked up. She pounded her fist into her chest. "My Thane."

The housecarl received a quick nod of acknowledgement. "Let's head out."

000000…..

Because time was of the essence, Csatari saddled her horse, and both she and Lydia rode up, while the rest took some short cut they knew about. It was fine if they got lost in the woods, because she wanted to return both sons back to Eorlund unharmed. If the brother came, he was likely just to get himself killed. Besides, Csatari had enough rage inside her for all of them. She was confident that all the elves would die by her hand alone. She needed the taste of war to quell her rage inside.

The journey was long as they galloped on, Lydia riding in the back with her bow out to shoot down predators on their trail, wolves, trolls, bandits- anything or anyone that tried to slow them down. The wind whipped their faces; their warm breath causing plumes of smoke to settle in the air before disappearing on their exhales. The tip of their noses stung like being pricked with a needle and started running not long into the ride. Csatari tried steering the horse onto the steadiest ground she saw, but snow could be deceiving, and unfortunately they hit a few covered holes. The horse recovered quickly, however, and galloped on. Extra oats in Alfie's food when they returned, she avowed.

When the land became strangely sparse aside from the horkers, eerily calm waters, and dense snow, Csatari knew they were close. The land had a strange barrenness this north in Skyrim. Many prominent men came from such areas- Ysgramor and Ulfric to name a few, and she was beginning to understand. The land carved a man's soul into one truth- either kill or wait to be killed. In this harsh terrain, this frozen tundra, before her, there was no other way to think.

"Psst." A hissing sound came from her right.

"You have got to be kidding me," Lydia murmured while Csatari blinked in shock. Avulstein Gray-Mane and 'company' stood behind a rock, surveying the fort down the road. She trotted over, while Lydia dismounted first. Csatari slung her foot over the horse, landing on the snow covered ground. Her feet tingled in pain from hitting the ground from such altitude.

"Did you guys fly here on the back of a dragon?" She whispered furiously.

"Na, went through Dwarven ruins. Stayed warm and got here just as quickly," Avulstein replied.

"Vidrald got a little scratched up, though." The man was holding his bloody side.

Csatari shook her head. "Better you than me. I don't like their abandoned cities and their machines. They're unnatural." She walked over holding her hands out. The man questioned her intentions.

"You're useless like this." Her hands glowed, and Csatari concentrated to heal him the best she could. He sighed in relief when she was drained of magicka.

"So, we only see five guards on the outside, but I'm betting all the ale I've got that my brother is inside."  
>"Alright here's the plan. I want everyone coming out alive and unharmed. I will handle all the guards on the outside. While I have their attention, sneak in. You are to follow Lydia inside to find your brother. I will catch up with you when everyone's dead.<p>

"Pfft. So, you're going to have all the fun while I have to sneak in like a rat?"

Gods almighty, his stubbornness wore on her. "Think clearly. This isn't about revenge or killing the most elves. This is about finding your brother…alive. If you do a rush attack, they'll be so confused, they'll abandon him. It's his greatest shot of coming out in one piece."

"And if he's hurt real bad?" Avulstein asked.

"I can heal him…to a certain degree. If he can't walk, he can ride the horse back until Danica can heal him fully. Remember. Stay behind and follow the plan. Wait until I've drawn out all of the guards," Csatari whispered.

The men nodded somberly.

"Talos guide and protect you," Lydia whispered. Csatari nodded and tried not to cringe. The gods didn't give a damn.

"Come on, Alfie. Let's go start some trouble."

The horse whinnied as she walked out towards the fort, her legs getting lost in the drifts of snow. The accumulation reached the tops of her knees. Csatari stood out in the middle of the road right in front of the blocked fortress. Unsheathing the two handed blade, she held it up high. "This blade was created specifically to kill elves. Anyone want to test it out?" She shouted at the top of her lungs. The guard at the front barrack stared at her, wondering if she had gone crazy from the cold and isolation.

She stepped up to the front guard, relaxing her throat, allowing the pent up energy inside her out. "Fus Ro Da!" The force of her shout shook the land, snow resting on top of the stone faced building shook loose, falling to the ground.

The soldier flew in the air backwards; a loud thumping sound was heard when his body slammed against the door before slumping to the ground. She was impressed that he had flown all the way across the court yard. Her Thu'um was strengthening. A proud smile stretched across her face.

The elves, in response, ran out towards her.

"Behold the mighty Thalmor!"

A predatory smile transformed her features as she started running, jumping up in the air, and landed on the wooden barricade, and used it to jump over. Flying in the air, she held the blade sideways. If she held it in the air above her, she and the sword wouldn't have cleared the entranceway. Falling back to the ground, she swung the blade when it was on the same level as the elf's head, slicing it cleanly off his body. The elves stared in horror before their faces turned vengeful.

The sight of their comrade's blood dripping from her sword only served to anger them more. "Who's next?"

They would all die by her hand today; none would ever see the next day's sun rise.

Two elves' swords came down at the exact same time, and Csatari held her sword out, blocking their blows. She swung Wuuthrad then, hitting the one on the right side in his middle, where their armor was the most vulnerable. He dropped to the ground, bleeding out, screaming in pain, so Csatari ended his suffering by chopping his head off. While Csatari took care of the second, her horse galloped up, knocking over the barrier, as the third soldier stepped backwards after his hit was deflected, the wooden barrier spearing him in the middle as he gasped in pain.

"Sucks to be you," she said without an ounce of remorse or sympathy. "Shouldn't capture and torture people for sport."

She glance at Alfie, smiling. "Couldn't have planned that better myself."

The two archers rained down arrows that hit the archway, just missing Csatari's body.

As she prepared to run after them, Csatari heard shouting from behind her. Turning, she saw Avulstein and his men along with a huffing Lydia behind them.  
>Her brow raised, wondering what was going on as they moved the barricade out of the way, speared elf and all. "Couldn't let you and the horse have all the glory," the Gray-Mane declared.<p>

She shook her head in anger, and shoved her sword out, tripping Avulstein in the process. Hitting the ground, the rest tumbled down after him. While Lydia's eyes silently apologized, stopping herself in time, the men stared up questioning.

"Remember who's in charge," she warned them.

"It's my brother!" Avulstein shouted in protest with two men lying on top of him. It was a tangle of kicking legs and flailing arms.

"And if it wasn't for me, you'd still be hiding like a scared rabbit inside your daddy's home. We do this my way, or I leave." Csatari left no room for debate in her voice.

"Fine," he huffed.  
>"Lydia, two archers are begging for arrows through their skulls. Make it happen."<p>

The woman bowed. "Yes, my Thane," she replied before pulling out her bow and stepping over the men.

The soldiers disentangled themselves, standing up, angry as they brushed the snow off their bodies. "What is wrong with you?" She shouted at Avulstein. "I am trying to return you and your brother in one piece to your father. Why are you making that so exceptionally difficult? Stop being a pain in my ass!"

She turned, hearing the screams of one archer tumble to the ground, his neck breaking from the fall as Csatari turned her attention to the second one who was trying to shoot down Lydia.

"Wait here!" she shouted before running across the court yard towards the last man, zig zagging left then right, narrowly missing arrows as she ran up the steps to his out post.

"Lydia, go protect them!" Csatari shouted at the top of her lungs. At the last step, she raised her sword high in the air as she jumped up. Before the sword connected with the archer's body, images flashed through Csatari's mind:

_Vilkas' hands brushing back her ripped shirt, exposing her scarred skin, lips kissing their way down her body before suckling her breast. The softness of his hair as it brushed against her skin. His warm, erratic breaths tickling her ear as he thrust himself into her. The sweat drops rolling down her body as her eyes rolled back. _

_Damn him._

She shouted out in anger at the flashing images. How dare he harass her now! All she wanted was to enjoy the one thing she was good at, and he had to deny her that.

One thing was for certain. She would never recommend marriage to anyone.

In her anger, she swung the axe down with more force than necessary. It slid down into the soldier's collar bone, the enchanted weapon sliding like a hot knife through butter. The female elf died, her blood smearing Csatari's face as she yanked the fabled sword back out of the dead Altimer's body.

Taking the handkerchief that she kept inside her breast plate out, she wiped her face clean, dropping the smeared cloth on to the crimson snow before running down towards the door.

Her foot kicked the crumpled elf out of the entrance way, as she beckoned them all to come. Opening the door, she smelled magic and could hear their heart beats below. She held up three fingers before charging in and prayed that images of Vilkas wouldn't plague her anymore.

"Follow my lead," she whispered to eager swords.

0000…

It was a chaotic mess.

As soon as they were inside the keep, there was no controlling the men. They were undisciplined, swung their blades out of anger, not out of controlled skill. Both of Avulstein's companions died. There was nothing Csatari could do to save them. She instructed the men not to stand in open areas, leaving them vulnerable for attack. She suggested for them to stay on top of stairs and corridors to funnel the enemy through the small openings, making it easier to kill them. But, they didn't listen. They were killed instantly, leaving Csatari not even a pulse to try and save them.

They were such senseless deaths. She should have demanded to come alone, just her and Lydia.

Csatari lacked social skills and had problems speaking to people in a friendly manner; she had terrible rage and anger issues, and she generally liked killing people that tried to harm her or anyone that she cared about. But, torture was another beast entirely. The Harbinger had no idea how anyone could conduct such acts against another and claim they still possessed a soul. As they rounded a corner, Csatari first smelled then saw an entire cart full of burned bodies. Only monsters tied people up and then killed them so they couldn't fight back.

Through the cold, stoned corridors, killing anything that challenged them, they finally came across Thorald.

Csatari's blood ran cold.

To say the man was in bad shape would be an understatement. She could smell all of the open wounds on his body still bleeding and could smell burn marks, like a heated dagger pressed against his skin. His eyes were swollen shut.

"Have you come to finish the job?"He announced with a strange acceptance of his fate.

"Thorald!" Avulstein cried out to his brother who was chained to the wall.

"Thorald, my name is Csatari and I'm…a warrior from Whiterun. I'm a friend of your father and mother. Your brother is here. I can heal you, but you are…" She glanced over his body again. His heart was beating too slowly. Had they drugged him? "In rough shape."

He tried to laugh, but only coughed. "I never thought I'd see a friendly face again."  
>She was about to say that he couldn't actually see her face with two swollen eyes, but decided to leave semantics alone. With a lock pick, Csatari unlocked his shackles, while Avulstein and Lydia supported his weight. Thorald could barely walk.<p>

"Sit him down at that desk." She instructed.

At the table in the torture room was a meal- a baked potato and some venison. She placed the man's hand, who flinched at her touch, onto the food.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I'll tell you what I'm doing before I do it next time."

"It's alright," he garbled out.

"This is a potato. I know this will sound crazy, but I need you to try and eat right now while I work on healing you."

"We need to get him out of here," Avulstein urged.

Csatari shook her head. "He's in no condition to be moved right now. In that snow, he won't last more than a few days. Let me heal him. Keep watch while I work. And don't bother me, or I won't be able to concentrate."  
>"Hello? Is there anyone there? Help!" Screams and cries were heard from down the alley.<p>

"Lydia, check them out. If those are other prisoners, release them."

Csatari turned back towards Thorald. "You are safe now. No one will harm you. All of the elves are dead. I will not let anyone else touch you. Please just try and eat."

Csatari placed her hands on his shoulders slowly and gently as he began to scoff down the baked potato. For every healer, their magic worked a little different. The healers realized that Csatari's magic worked by emotion. The more powerful of an emotion she thought of, the stronger she could heal. So, she tried to conjure up all of her saved special moments with Bulmond as she repeated the words, "Heal."

Her hands barely fizzled.

Csatari tried recalling the memories again, but the magic was leaving her. "Come on," she whispered to the air. "Help me out."

The images came unbidden- flashes of memories like before.

_Vilkas' naked body walking towards the edge of the water. His body pressed against hers as the bar of soap ran over her body. _

_The image changed to being inside the inn, Csatari straddling Vilkas in a chair, remembering how the first kiss she remembered felt like. The slow, adept, sensual way he rattled her and unwound her simultaneously. The feeling of never wanting the moment to end._

_They were on the bed then, Vilkas lying on top of her. ""That's my good girl," Vilkas murmured, as the last wave of orgasm ended, leaving her on the bed breathless, unable to move, and every muscle in her body turning into jelly._

_The feeling of waking up in his arms and not having a single thought pressing in her mind. _

_Peace of mind. _

That's what she felt in the mornings after being with him, she realized suddenly. The nights that she and Vilkas were intimate together, the next day she felt at peace mentally.

He calmed her soul then.

"Ah, that feels so good. Hey! I can see again."

Csatari opened her eyes and realized that the magic was pouring out of her and into Thorald. If she stopped to think about the fact that it was Vilkas who she was thinking about, the magic would likely stopped. Instead she would allow it. She closed her eyes and imagined what it would be like if she went home, and everything was okay. Her husband was happy to see her, awaited with open arms, kissing her on the lips, pulling her into bed. They could make love, their reunion sweet from being apart for several days.

Or what about when she stumbled into her room drunk in Markarth? What if when Vilkas grabbed her, hooking her arm around her waist and pulling her into the bed, instead of freaking out and screaming, what if she cuddled up to him? What if she had placed her head onto his warm, naked chest, slipped under the pelt and not cared about when they needed to leave?

The magic drained out of her completely as the last of her magicka pool drained out of her hands.

"I need some potion," she explained, reaching for her bag.

Lydia walked back. "There were prisoners in there. I've released them."

Uncorking the bottle, Csatari allowed the contents to pour down her throat. She shivered at its strange taste before turning back to Thorald.

This time she re-lived her night on the patio table outside, the very one she set on fire. By the time she was done, Thorald was nearly as good as new.

"Thanks," he said, "You've healed that back pain. It's been bothering me for ages."

"Next time, don't be a baby and go see a priestess. Danica could have healed your pain ages ago, and I can only do a fraction of what she can."

He nodded curtly. "It's good enough."

"Can you stand now?" she asked as he licked his fingers clean of the venison. He nodded, and pushing the chair up, stood quickly. He was a huge man, Csatari realized now that he stood there before her. Nordic men were usually large by nature, and his father wasn't exactly a small man, but by the gods, his arm alone was nearly her waist.

"Do you have any armor or any weapons?" she asked.

He nodded, pointing to a chest behind him in the corner of the room by the racks. Opening the chest, Csatari pulled out all of the gear, and brought it back down on the table. His armor, the same as Avulstein was there.  
>"Why don't you help your brother dress?" She asked the Gray-Mane.<p>

"Why don't you help him?" he asked, still peering out of the door.

"I'm married," she replied flatly. "I don't think that's appropriate."

He blinked at her words, caught off guard, and walked over to his brother as she and Lydia turned their backs on the two.

"So, who's your husband?" Thorald asked. She could tell it was him because his voice was deeper.

"Vilkas from Jorvaskr."

"Ha! I know him. Grew up playing with him. So, he convinced you to marry him, huh?"

Csatari snorted. "Something like that."

"Good on him. He needs someone strong at his side."

His words surprised her. "Why do you say that?" she asked uneasily.

"Well, surely you've figured out by now that Vilkas has a bit of a temper. Most women can't handle that. You seem very capable, and can hold your own ground. Vilkas likes the fight."

"I don't understand…" Csatari drawled.

"He likes rocky relationships. Drawn to them. When things are calm, he's bored. He's smarter than he looks. Always loved those books. Probably coulda been a scholar if he wasn't so good with a sword in his hand."

Csatari laughed. "Then he's definitely in the right marriage then." As soon as the words left her lips, she contemplated them. What did that mean exactly? Their words broke her train of thought, however.

"Ready to go."

Csatari turned, standing in front. "Thorald, Avulstein, Lydia in back."

No one argued and fell in line as she walked up the stairs. It was a relatively short set of stairs, leading to a door with a bar. As she opened them, and stepped outside tentatively, she realized that they were outside. She could not detect any heart beats or other signs of life around her. She beckoned for the others to come out.

Thorald turned towards Csatari. "Why did you do this? Risk yourself for me?"

Looking him in the eyes, she explained. "I gave your father my word that if he helped me make a Dwarven bow, I'd bring his son back. It's just that simple." Csatari didn't want to get into the reason for doing this was because you take care of your own. When one part of a warrior group hurts, the rest suffer. She was just trying to make her family whole. She frowned at her own thoughts considering how she treated Vilkas. Whole. She was a long way from mending that rift. Csatari sighed in frustration.

Thorald glanced at her a while longer before saying, "It seems my father keeps himself in good company. But, I cannot go back. It's not safe. Neither is it for Avulstein. We're going to have to join the Stormcloaks now. Tell my mother to suffer the winter's cold wind, for it bears aloft next summer's seeds."

Csatari glanced at Lydia. "Do you have that?"

The housecarl nodded. "Yes, my Thane."

"Good. Because I'll likely forget it. And it's important we tell the Gray-Manes that."

Csatari handed Thorald the bag she carried with all of her supplies. "Medical supplies, some food, and about two thousand septims. Good luck."

Thorald took the bag. "What about you?"

"I've got my horse and my housecarl. I'll be fine." Csatari turned to leave the courtyard.

"Talos guide you," she heard from behind her.

When will people ever learn? Talos doesn't guide anyone.

Csatari reached her horse, Lydia behind her.

"You seem troubled, my Thane."

She shook her head frowning. "Inside those bodies."

"That was difficult to see," Lydia agreed.

Csatari nodded. The sight was difficult to see. Strangely, she didn't feel weak for being upset by what she saw; in fact, she felt the opposite. It was positive that the elves' cruelty upset her; it made her feel as though she was holding on to her humanity, not letting it slip away with each soul she devoured.

Maybe she just needed to go home and apologize.

Mounting Alfie, Lydia behind her, they trotted their way towards Whiterun.

0000….

Csatari believed she was somewhere near Morthal when she heard the loud roaring of a dragon.

"Above us," Lydia called out. Glancing up, she saw a dragon flying above us. They were low on supplies; she didn't need this now. Perhaps it would be a friendly dragon?

When the monster sprayed down frost onto the marshy lands, however, Csatari knew the idea was wishful thinking.

"Get ready for a fight, Lydia."

The housecarl drew her bow.


	25. Chapter 25

So, 2013 has been crazy for me. Everything and I mean everything that could have possibly gone wrong kind of has. I am publishing three books (Romance and Erotica) in the next two months under my pen name SL Siwik. So, I will be spending the next two months knee deep in promotion stuff. If I can't make this year as a full-time writer, then it will be time to pack up, go home, and find a career that I'll hate. So, why am I telling you this, you ask? Promotion stuff is not fun. It's grueling work, and it makes me cranky. I'm someone who believes that an author has to write every single day. So, that means...dun dun dun...Lots of new chapters VERY VERY VERY SOON! I want to thank everyone who has read, followed, and commented on this story. I may have not responded back to everyone, but I am grateful for all of your words. New chapters soon. Like within the month.

Thanks everyone!


	26. Chapter 26

**Warning: Character Death. And a bit of gore.**

Love of two is one  
>Here but now they're gone<br>Came the last night of sadness  
>And it was clear she couldn't go on<br>Then the door was open and the wind appeared  
>The candles blew then disappeared<br>The curtains flew then he appeared...saying don't be afraid  
>Come on baby...and she had no fear<br>And she ran to him...then they started to fly  
>They looked backward and said goodbye...she had become like they are<br>She had taken his hand...she had become like they are  
>Come on baby...don't fear the reaper<p>

~Blue Oyster Cult- The Reaper

00000….000000

Csatari pulled Alfie up behind a tree, and both dismounted quickly. Without thinking, she ran towards the dragon now resting on the marshy grass. As soon as it saw her running towards it, however, it took flight and shouted down below.

Csatari rolled from the frost dragon's icy blast.

"Get behind a tree!" she shouted.

"We're in the swamp, my Thane, there's not many of those!" Lydia shouted back.

Csatari ran towards the nearest tree, too thin for her comfort, and hid herself behind the bark. She glanced around quickly trying to find some cover for her warrior friend. With dismay, she had to agree, the swamp didn't provide much shelter.

"Get behind that one!" Csatari yelled while pointing to a nearby fallen tree.

Lydia ran just in time to escape another dragon's shout. Kneeling down, from behind the safety of the tree, Lydia took aim with her bow, firing off arrows whenever the dragon swooped down towards the ground. Csatari's bow was latched on to Alfie's saddle; the weight of Wuthraad alone was a lot to bear.

Lydia was taking all of the risks and doing all of the damage. That was unacceptable.

The dragon seemed distracted and swooped around, landing on the other side of the lake. Csatari took the chance and ran back to Alfie to retrieve her bow. The horse was busy grazing on marshland grass, oblivious to the battle at hand.

"It's nice to see how interested you are in battling this dragon." Alfie didn't acknowledge her words. "Right. I understand the grass here really needs tending to. Top priority and all." The horse glanced back at her momentarily before continuing to graze. "Well, if I forget to put oats in your feed this week, don't be upset. My priorities and all." Alfie nipped her calf and she swatted the horse's muzzle with her bow. Taking her arrows, Csatari ran back behind the bush.

"Here it comes!" Lydia shouted.

Csatari docked an arrow. She took a deep breath as the dragon flew above head and as she released her breath, let the arrow fly. As soon as it was released, Csatari grabbed another arrow, continuing the onslaught in rapid succession. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Lydia, from behind her fallen tree, was doing the same.

_We'll bring this bastard down one arrow at a time._

The dragon roared as an arrow landed in its neck and swooped around to land on the grassy marsh before them. The dragon stood in Lydia's path, so Csatari jumped out from behind the tree with Wuutrad.

"Hey, you ugly overgrown lizard!" Csatari shouted.

The dragon's yellow eyes met hers and blasted an icy shout. Csatari rolled out of the way just in time, but not fast enough as the bottom of her boot was sprayed with ice. She hissed as the powerful magic seeped into her booth freezing her foot.

She stood up and ran towards the dragon, as he turned to snap at her, she slashed his mouth straight across. The beast roared in anger and pain and Csatari moved towards its legs, slashing and hacking at its legs. A strange colored red poured from its wounds- definitely not the color of mer or human blood._ That's the same blood running inside me. What am I then?_

Csatari couldn't ponder that question for long as the dragon snapped her in its jaws. Wuuthrad sliced across its tough skin in retaliation.

"Bet that's going to leave a mark," Csatari crowed.

The dragon shouted and Csatari felt the full force of its icy blast on her body as she covered her face with her arm. Shooting pain stabbed her all along her skin.

_Why, oh why, did I have to be the Dragonborn? This is what I have to look forward to the rest of my life?_

"My Thane!" Lydia shouted as she ran out of hiding.

"I'm okay!" Csatari shouted back, "Stay behind the tree!"

But, it was too late. Lydia was already by the dragon's mouth, swirling around in a power hit. Lydia, in her anger, stood dangerously close to the dragon.

"Lydia, back up! You're too close!"

Instead, Lydia moved closer, slashing the dragon's neck open. Its roar was deafening_. The damn thing still isn't dead!_

In its fury, the dragon lunged down and grabbed Lydia, shaking her about.

"Lydia, no!" Csatari screamed at the top of her lungs.

Her mouth opened and "Yol" ripped from her lips onto the dragon. The dragon threw Lydia into the marshlands in its surprise.

"Dovahkiin," it rasped.

She wanted to see to Lydia, to see if she could be saved, but with the dragon staying here, she knew it would mean certain death for both of them.

"No, Lydia!" _Oh, gods. Oh, gods._ _Oh, gods. Protect her._ "Just hold on!" Csatari shouted as the anger pulsed through her veins. Csatari dropped Wuuthrad and lunged in the air. She let the pure fury roll through her and allowed the beast to take over. Her armor ripped from her body and her boots cracking in half as a few pieces of her armor smacked the dragon as it flew off her body. One she reached the lizard's back, her hands were transformed and she dug her claws into the vulnerable spots in his skin beneath the plating. Her feet were transformed, so she dug her nails into its skin as well as she climbed its back, puncturing its side with her claws. The dragon shook wildly, thrashing about as it tried to shake her off of it, but Csatari's claws were dug too deep to be dislodged. Once she reached its back, she clawed and ripped the flesh from its skin in fury as she roared loudly. A crazed fervor took over her being as she just kept slashing and ripping into the dragon's neck was raw. Blood poured from the wounds, but she kept ripping and slashing with a savagery she had never quite felt before.

Finally, the dragon roared its last and fell to the ground. Csatari wasn't sure if it was dead or not, so as it fell, she remained on its side, ripping and slashing until the magic came…

When she felt the memories of the dragon invading her mind, she jumped off the dragon and galloped over to Lydia. As soon as she reached her friend, her eyes blurred, as she began transforming back.

She blinked a few times in hopes that her eye sight would return. But, when she could see, she wished she couldn't.

Broken, Lydia's body laid across the marsh in two pieces, severed in half at the waist.

"No, no, no, you can't leave me!" She cried out as she grabbed Lydia's torso and dragged it towards her chest. Placing the two halves near each other she dropped to the ground.

"I can heal you. I can…I can fix you."

The magic poured out of her hands, the light so blindingly bright that she had to close her eyes. The healing power poured out of her until she felt her hands fizzle as the magic emptied out of her. When she had nothing left to offer, she opened her in eyes, hoping against hope, that she had been able to heal the warrior's body, and that her soul had been ripped from wherever it went and was now back in her body.

The two halves of her broken friend still remained as they were before.

"No!" she screamed out, slamming her fists into the wet ground below. "This isn't how it was supposed to end! This isn't out she was supposed to die!"

Lydia was supposed to grow old, find a man to love, settle down, have a life. She wasn't supposed to die protecting her. That was never how Lydia's story was supposed to end.

_She sacrificed herself for me. It's all my fault._

Csatari remained kneeling next to her friend, hoping that she knew that even now in death, she wasn't alone.

She sat staring at Lydia's broken body, lost in grief, anger, and guilt. A strong nudge came from behind, pushing Csatari down. When she turned, Alfie was standing behind her and licked her face.

"Okay, I get it. We have to go."

Csatari stood up and took sacks that were tied to the saddle. She placed the first half of Lydia in the bag, then the second in the other bag while she stifled back tears. This was sickening; Csatari never cried. Tears repulsed her. She had also never had anyone die for her before.

Tying both ends securely to the saddle, Csatari held the saddle in place to distribute the weight before mounting.

"Go slow, Alfie," she told the horse. "We're not leaving Lydia out here to be picked at by wild animals. We'll take her back where she belongs."

The horse began to walk off slow out of the marsh, and into the setting sun.

000000…0000000

Csatari knew that she probably should have stopped somewhere to rest. She was hungry, tired, naked, and freezing. Her eyes were drooping closed, but then a cold wind blew by and woke her up as her teeth chattered.

Besides, it was the middle of the night, and if you had to ride a horse naked, now was the best time to do so.

_Of all the stupid things that I could have done, transforming then has to be at the top of the list! Okay, second on the list. Marrying Vilkas while drunk off my ass is still number one. But, having to ride back naked is a close second._

Shaking her head at her stupidity, the warrior and horse trudged on.

A while later, her eyes closed as her head fell forward. The arrow that went whizzing by her head, however, woke her right up.

Csatari glanced out into the blackness, looking for who had fired it.

"Come out and fight me!" She shouted.

As exhausted as she was, she was still itching for a fight. Anything to take away this pain.

Drawing Wuuthrad from the side of her saddle, she held it up in anticipation. Csatari heard and felt it then, the erratic heartbeat of someone other than her own. It was to the left of her.

A dark figure came out of the shadows, lunging up at her. Her reflexes kicked in and with all of her might, slammed Wuuthrad forward right into the place of heat and warmth that was making her salivate.

The figure screamed out before dropping to the ground, taking the weapon down with it. Csatari was forced to hop down off of Alfie to see what she had struck. Yanking out Wuuthrad, she looked down on a figure wearing that red and black armor, the same as when they found on that body when they were travelling to Riften. Vilkas had said that it was an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood. She yanked off the mask and placed her finger under its nose for breath. None came, but there was only one way to make sure. Taking off the head gear completely, Csatari began unstrapping the armor and boots. When the dark elf lay naked on the ground, Csatari brought Wuuthrad down on her neck, severing her head. Csatari then sat down next to the corpse and dressed in its gear, but found nothing. The outfit was a little too tight for her, and the boots too small, but it was better than going naked even with the large gash across the chest.

"Good riddance," she spat at the assassin before mounting Alfie again and hanging Wuuthrad from the side of her saddle.

"If you want to keep sending your dogs at me to try and finish me off, at least send one that's an actual challenge! This is becoming insulting! You don't have anyone who at least knows how to use a blade and can give me a good fight! Do you hear that, you Dark Brotherhood bastards! Send me someone who might actually be able to kill me! Cause if you don't, I'm going to kill you all!" She panted from screaming at the top of her lungs like a maniac.

She was just too raw to give a damn anymore. When no one responded back, she tapped Alfie's side to walk.

They continued on their way.

00000….0000000

The sun was rising when she finally reached the Whiterun stables. She dismounted, patting Alfie before she slowly untied Lydia from the side of the saddle. Taking all of her weapons, she handed the horse off to Skulvar Sable-Hilt.

"Please give the horse oats tonight," she requested.

He took the reins from her. "Where's Lydia?" he asked.

She shook her head and walked away.

Carrying Wuuthrad was heavy, so was carrying her bow. But, carrying both weapons _and _Lydia was a weight too much to bear. She trudged along slowly one foot in front of the other. Even if it took her all day, she'd make it to the Hall of the Dead.

As she continued her slow walk to the gates of the city, the guards staring at her all the while. She was glaring at one who was giving her the stink eye when she ran into a wall. At least, she thought it was a wall, until she turned her head, and then looked up.

"Hey!" Farkas replied. "Good to have you home. Vilkas has been worried about ya." He looked her up and down. "Why are you wearing that armor, and where's Lydia?"

"I'll tell you about the armor back at home, and Lydia died. I have to take her body to the Hall of the Dead."

His face fell as his large hand patted her shoulder. "You alright?"

A lump formed in her throat as she shook her head.

"You need help with that?" he asked.

"Would you mind carrying the weapons back to Jorrvaskr? I'll carry her to the Hall."

Farkas nodded and took the weapons from her. "You sure you don't want me to carry Lydia?" he asked.

"No, this is my burden." _It's my fault that she's dead._

They walked through the city gates in silence.

At the Gildergreen tree, they parted ways.

"I'll tell my brother that you're back," Farkas said.

Vilkas. She didn't want to fight with him right now; she just wanted to grieve…in peace.

"Don't bother," she replied before walking off towards Lydia's final resting place.

Csatari walked into the Hall of Dead calling out for the priest who attended the place. A man finally emerged from a room.

"Are you the priest here? I need a body laid to rest here. It's my housecarl. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do," she said. The man eyed her intently, so she added, "I'm Thane of the city."

"Do you believe in mighty Arkay, god of life and death?" he asked.

"Fuck the gods!" she spat. "Especially Arkay! All he's ever done is taken from me."

He frowned. "I see. Well, perhaps you'll take pity on an old priest who has lost something precious. I've lost my amulet of Arkay in the catacombs. It's my source of divine power and also a sacred badge of office. I'd look for it, but I've hearing noises down there. I fear the dead have become restless. Without my amulet, I am powerless to confront them. Would you be willing to search for it?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? You've got draugr down there? Why can't the dead just stay put in this gods forsaken country?" The old man watched her with a worried expression as he played with his long, white beard. "Alright, I'll find your amulet _if _you'll agree to take care of Lydia's body. Make her comfortable, and put her in a good spot in the catacombs, so I can come visit her. I'll pay whatever expenses are necessary."

He nodded. "I'll just wait here and make sure nothing foul escapes the catacombs."

She placed Lydia down on the ground. "And just for future reference, you don't need a damn amulet to fight off draugr. A sword works just fine."

Csatari walked through the doors of the catacombs to hear the growling noises of a restless body. She went to pull her sword from her back only to realize that she had given it to Farkas.

"Can this day get any worse?" she growled.

_Shit. Think quick!_

The draugr approached her and she panicked. The only weapon she had on her now was her unreliable magic. _This had better work._

"Flames!" she shouted as she outstretched her hands.

Fire burst out of the tips of her hands and scorched the dead. It stumbled back for a moment, but the flames kept pouring out of her hands. Its body finally shattered to pieces and she sighed in relief as the last of her magic drained out of her. She caught movement behind her and realized another draugr was running towards her. Quickly, Csatari picked up the sword that the body had dropped and turned to face it. She had other powers, though, she realized, besides this dull sword in her hand.

She opened her mouth and let the power explode out of her as she shouted, "Yol!"

The draugr staggered backwards and slammed into the wall, but did not break apart. She ran over to it, and sliced it clean through the middle and it finally broke apart. She did not hear or see the draugr behind her, only felt its blade slice through her back as she screamed out. Her knees buckled in pain as she fell forward. Regaining her balance, she turned and shouted with all of her might. She let the rage, anger, and frustration pour out of her, and the draugr turned and fled.

"Oh, no, you don't!" she shouted as she ran after it. When she was right behind, she sliced it clean through the middle as it dropped to the ground.

She moaned out in pain as she felt her blood drip down her back. She walked the rest of the catacombs to make sure there was no more dead lying in wait and found the amulet sitting on a table. Picking it up, she walked back to the priest and held out his amulet.

"Here ya go," she said while panting.

"Oh, my, you're dripping blood."

"Yeah, well, that's just the kind of day that I'm having."

He took the amulet from her and said, "Oh, thank Arkay. Here's some gold for your troubles."

Thank Arkay? Csatari didn't see Arkay down in those catacombs. He should be thanking her!

She waved him off. "Keep the gold to pay for a nice coffin for Lydia. I want a really nice one. Tell me what else she needs, or what do I have to pay?"

He glanced down at the ground. "Why are there two bags?"

A lump formed in her throat again. "She was ripped in two by a dragon. She died nobly, protecting me. Will that be a problem that her body isn't…whole?"

Csatari didn't know what she would do if this priest rejected Lydia. Her body deserved to rest at home, in her city.

"No, it won't be a problem. I'll make her body as comfortable as possible."

She sighed in relief. "Thank you. If you have any more problems with restless dead, come see me at Jorrvaskr. I'm the Harbinger. I'll take care of them for you."

"Blessings of Arkay be upon you."

Csatari snorted at the man. "I'll be back in a few days to see Lydia. I'll bring some of her favorite flowers."

She turned and hobbled out of the Hall. Her damn leg was starting to act up again.

Csatari walked towards the Temple of Kynnareth, where she knew the healers would be. Healing her back was tricky, since she wouldn't be able to see where the magic was going. With her luck, she'd wind up closing the armor into her skin.

She walked in, and the priestess was healing a sick farmer. The priestess took in her armor and her eyes widened in fear. _Oh, yeah. I'm wearing this damn assassin gear._

She ripped the hood off, so that the priestess could see her face.

"Uh, I need healing. My back's a mess, and my leg has been bothering me for days."

"You're the one who made the Gildergreen blossom again, aren't you?" she asked.

Csatari nodded.

"Take a seat over there. I'll be with you in a moment."

Csatari walked over to the bench and sat down, the pain in her back searing and making her whole body feel as though it was on fire.

When the priestess was finished, she walked over to her. The woman walked around to her backside and sighed.

"Damn draugr won't stay sleeping," she grumbled.

The warmth poured out of the woman's hands and into Csatari as she felt her skin knitting back together. She groaned loudly in relief.

"This will feel itchy for a few days," the priestess said. "Be sure to wrap it in bandages." The woman walked to her front. "Now let's see about that leg."

Csatari held it out for her and the magic poured out of the woman. She sighed in relief, because not only was the dull ache gone, but her leg felt stronger than it did before it broke.

"Thank you. What do I owe you?" Csatari asked. The priestess waved her off. "I need to come to you some time for some training. Your healing powers are incredible."

"I am always here to help. I will need to ask a small donation for my time," she said.

"Yeah, no problem." Csatari stood up and flexed her leg muscles. It was amazing how much better she felt. "Thanks." She turned and walked out of the temple.

Csatari stood near the Gildergreen tree, staring up at Jorrvaskr. Could she go up now and deal with telling them all of her failure? Could she deal with whatever was waiting for her inside after she assaulted Vilkas and nearly set the place on fire. She didn't exactly leave on great terms. Was she ready to suck up her pride and deal with their wrath?

Csatari took a deep, cleansing breath as she watched the door to Jorrvaskr open. A figure stood on the top steps with his arms folded. She took a few steps forward while squinting her eyes to see who it was. The long black hair, and stature gave it away. She groaned inwardly as she realized her husband's steely gaze was watching her. Feeling ridiculous, skulking about like a petulant child who was afraid of her impending punishment for her behavior, Csatari stood up straight and marched up the steps of Jorrvaskr.

When she reached the second to top step, Vilkas looked her over. "You're home."

"You're observant," she replied before walking past him.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Csatari glared at his hand on her arm until he released her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. The cut on my back will heal in a few days." She looked anywhere but at him.

"Why are you wearing that armor?" He asked.

"Mine…got destroyed. I picked this up along the way."

"You _picked _it up?" She could hear the surprise in his tone.

Folding her arms, she tapped her foot in annoyance. "Yes, along my adventure, I decided to join the Dark Brotherhood. They seem like such a nice bunch of murdering, cutthroats." He glared back at her. "How do you think I picked it up?"

"Another assassin came after you." He frowned at the realization.

"You really are observant today." She turned to walk into Jorrvaskr, but stopped when he called out her name. Csatari paused with her hand on the door.

"Are you alright?" he asked again.

She closed her eyes and sighed as she rested her forehead against the wooden door. "I'm sorry for the fight that we had before I left. I don't want to fight with you, so just leave me be and let me….get over this in my own way. I'm going to bathe, eat, sleep, and then I have to leave."

"Why are you leaving again?" he asked, though his voice was soft and laced with concern.

"I'll be gone only a day. I have to see someone."

She stepped through the doors of Jorrvaskr and into chaos.

Athis and Njada were at it again- no surprise there- brawling with one another. Njada slammed her fist into Athis' left cheek and everyone applauded. She walked past the mess towards the stairs.

"Hey," Aela called out.

Csatari turned towards the huntress and realized that the entire room had gone still, and all eyes were on her.

"Uh, hey. Sorry for losing my temper before I left. I'll try to be a better Harbinger in the future, but filling Kodlak's shoes is feeling damn near impossible. Still, I'll try not to burn the place down with my shouts. If it's important, come find me. If not, just…leave me be for a bit."

Sympathetic eyes stared back at her. Word really did travel around Jorrvaskr faster than a group of gossiping children. Csatari didn't know what else to say, so she walked down the stairs towards her room.

As she entered her bedroom, Bulmond's shield was lying on her bed in one piece. She picked it up and and turned it over, looking at where the new shiny iron was patched onto the old dull to repair it. Her finger slid down the new rivets in the metal, holding the pieces together.

"If the shield was so important to you, you shouldn't be using it during training," Vilkas said from behind her.

She turned toward him as he leaned against the door way. "You're right. I think I'm going to hang up in the room somewhere. Thanks for having it fixed."

Csatari placed the shield down on the table in the corner of the room. She picked up her bar of soap, a cloth, and a change of clothes.

She moved towards the door, but Vilkas wouldn't move. "Excuse me." He stood there, staring at her. Her patience was running thin. "Can I help you with something?"

"Are you just going to ignore me? Are you just going to pretend like I don't exist?" he asked.

There was that damn edge in his voice again, the one that always made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

"Kind of. I just want some space…to grieve."

"Why? We're married now. If you need someone to lean on, then it should be me."

Csatari snorted. "Tell me, Vilkas, what did you do after Kodlak's death?" He stared at the floor. "Answer me!"

"That was different. We weren't married-"

"You found comfort in two wenches…_at the same time_! You weren't looking for comfort from me. No, you told me that it was my fault that Kodalk was dead! So, I guess what's good for you isn't good for me."

"It was different then!"

She crossed her arms. "Oh? Five days later we were married. Five days after I watched you with those women. You didn't even love me. How could you have if that's what you did? Admit it! We were a mistake that never should have happened!"

His eyes grew cold. "Is that what you want to hear?_ Fine_, we were a mistake. It was hopeless to think that I could ever make you see me differently."

Csatari finally felt a strange sense of peace at his admittance. "Go back to your women. Do whatever you want. Just stay out of my way. I'll figure this all out on my own." _I can't lose another person._

"And who will you be giving you your comfort?"

"I don't know. I didn't know that I had to figure that out now," She snapped back.

"You know who you'll go to," he sneered.

"You know what? You're probably right. Because you're not who I want to spend the night with. I want to drink with Farkas, because when I say that I don't want to talk, he doesn't push me. He doesn't try to force me. He just gets it. So, you know what? I probably will get my comfort from your brother. And there's not a damn thing that you can do about it! Now move!"

Vilkas glared, refusing to move.

Csatari pushed him hard. "Move!"

He stumbled back a few steps and Csatari slid past him, walked up the steps, and out of Jorrvaskr.

Csatari nearly stumbled into Farkas who was sitting down on the top step.

"Where ya going?" he asked.

"To the stream to bathe. I'm covered in blood right now." _Too much blood._ Csatari was about to keep walking when Vilkas' words slithered into her head and caused her lips to curl up into a smile. She turned back towards her husband's brother and asked, "Want to join? I'll take watch when you bathe, and you can watch out for me. "

Farkas shrugged. "Sure. Why not? I'll need some clean clothes."

He turned back into Jorrvaskr as Csatari called out cheerfully, "I'll be here waiting!"

000000…..0000000

A/N: So I want to thank everyone for their support and encouragement to finish this story. TWH is the 11th best reviewed story in Skyrim fanfic. And, not to toot my own horn, but all the other stories are nearly twice as long as this one. If you could, please take a second out to review, because it's your words-good, bad, or ugly, that have made me come back to finish. Your reviews will keep me pumped to finish! As far as the next few chapters will go, all I can say is Sh*t is about to go down! LOL

Oh, and on a personal note: I am self-publishing my novels as I submit them to publishers, so fingers crossed!


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Warning: Questionable Dub-con scene, mentions of Threesome, child abuse, adult topics!**

**It's THE SCENE! The one you have been so patiently waiting for…for so long. It's finally come! Horray!**

**I also wanted to do something cool. In thanks for all of these wonderful reviews, the 400th reviewer can make a special request of me, and I'll do it: whether it be a one shot, or finishing one of my other stories (that still aren't done). I'll do it again, if the story nears 450 reviews, then again at (if I hopefully ever get there) 500 reviews! Thanks again for the support! You guys rock!**

**00000….000000**

No matter how many times that you told me you wanted to leave  
>No matter how many breaths that you took you still couldn't breathe<br>No matter how many nights that you'd lie wide awake to the sound of the poison rain  
>Where did you go<br>As days go by  
>the night's on fire<p>

Tell me would you kill to save a life  
>Tell me would you kill to prove you're right<br>Crash crash  
>Burn let it all burn<br>This hurricane's chasing us all underground

The promises we made were not enough (Never play the game again)  
>The prayers that we have prayed were like a drug (Never gonna hit the air)<br>The secrets that we sold were never known (Never sing a song for you)  
>The love we had, the love we had, we had to let it go.<br>~30 Seconds to Mars- Hurricane

00000000…..0000000000

Csatari rocked back and forth on her heels, bubbling in excitement. Vilkas would find out about this, and the thought thrilled her endlessly. He had to stop thinking that they were a real married couple that this would ever work out. She couldn't trust him; all of his words- his cruel words well placed like a dagger had ripped her apart when she joined the Companions. No, she didn't know how to get past the hurt and pain to forgive him, to forge a life with him. Besides, it was better if she did this all on her own. No one else needed to die for her.

Farkas walked out with clothes and a cotton cloth draped over his arm.

"Ready to go?" she asked.

"Yup," he replied.

She turned and began her walks down the ancient steps of Jorrvaskr towards the city gates.

00000….000000

When they reached a quiet part of the stream, away from prying eyes, Csatari asked, "Do you want to go first?"

"Sure," he replied.

Csatari turned as he started to unbuckle his armor.

A moment later when she heard water splashing, she turned to see Farkas muscular backside dip into the water. She stared in shock.

_Oh, wow. Just… wow. He really is one big mountain of muscle. Yum._

Cursing her perverseness, she turned back around, blushing from head to toe until she heard him moan.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

"Water's really cold," he replied.

But, the thought had entered her mind of what it would be like to be with the man that she really wanted; a niggling thought that wouldn't go away.

"I could help with that," she replied.

When he didn't reply, she knew it was now or never. Csatari quickly stripped out of her armor and ran towards the water before she lost her courage.

As she waded into the water, Farkas turned towards her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She bit her lower lip. Seduction had never been one of her skills. "I…just thought I could warm up the water for you."

Csatari placed her hands in the water and whispered, "Flames." Fire came out of her hands around this small pool-like area of water.

"Hey," he said, looking surprised, "The water is warmer here."

"Better clean up quick," she replied, "I can't do this forever."

Spurring to action, Farkas ran the bar of soap over his chest and arms quickly. The action reminded her of her night with Vilkas in the stream as he bathed her. _No, don't think about that now._

He cleaned his legs next, and she turned when he started bathing more _private areas._

_Why are you turning away if you want to be with him?_

Gathering all the courage she could, Csatari turned around and ran her fingertip down his chest.

"W-" he took a faltering breath, "What are you doing?"

"I would have married you," She whispered. "I've been in love with you since I met you. If I hadn't gotten drunk and married your brother by accident… I wanted to be yours."

"But, you are my brother's wife now," he replied as he grabbed her trailing hand.

"No, I told him that he could be with whomever he wanted, and that I would find my pleasure wherever I wanted to. We may be_ technically_ married, but it's a sham."

"It may be fake to _you_, but it's_ not_ to my brother. He loves you, Csatari, so I can't be with you."

His words cut through her like a sword. This man that she loved beyond sanity refused to be with her because she had been stupid enough to drink so much as to confuse him with his brother, and then_ marry_ said brother.

Tears threatened to spill. "He doesn't love me. He has said the nastiest, cruelest words to me. A man who loves a woman doesn't speak to her the way he has to me. Surely, you realize that."

Sympathetic eyes met hers. "He's said some pretty nasty things to you, but in his defense, you don't know what it's like to be a man with the beast inside."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"As a man, we have urges…" Csatari blushed from his words. "but, the beast within us has urges as well. The beast doesn't care about the man's urges either. The spirit wants what it wants."

"I don't understand," she admitted.

"I normally just listen to the beast and let it have whatever it wants, but my brother…he fights against his. He's fought the beast the most when it comes to you."

"Why?" I ask.

"My brother…."He ran a hand through his hair as he glanced up at the sky. "The beast doesn't really care about what's right and wrong, it just wants things."

"I still don't understand," she admitted.

"Don't bother explaining, Farkas. She doesn't really care to understand," a sharp voice said from the stream's embankment.

Both of their heads turned towards Vilkas, who stood on the edge of the stream with his arms crossed.

"At least he's talking to me, unlike you, who will never explain_ anything_ to me," Csatari sneered.

"Have you ever asked for me to explain?" he snaps back.

"It should be pretty obvious that in order to trust you, I'd need to understand how you went from constantly flinging insults at me to wanting to marry me."

Csatari stormed out of the stream towards that_ infuriating_ man. "Like this," She grabbed his sheathed greatsword and held it up. "You told me that this sword was probably worth more than my life, _husband_. A sword…worth more…than me."

She would destroy it, if he valued a precious sword above her life more. She turned to smack it against a rock, but his hand jutted out and grabbed her wrist hard. His grasp was so overwhelmingly strong, that even when she tried to wiggle out of his hold, she couldn't. Vilkas took the sword from her.

"You nearly set me on fire in fury when I broke your shield. So, it seems you've placed that weapon above my life as well. I said those words to you the first day I met you, because that's what I say to all whelps who try to join the Companions in order to teach them humility."

"That was different! That shield is one of the only things left that I have of Bulmond!" she shouted quickly.

Vilkas sheathed his blade. "And this is one of the only things that I have left of Kodlak. That sword is likely older than you."

Her eyes narrowed. "There you go again…with the insults. Are you incapable of not speaking to me without insulting me? I have twenty-three summers. I am _not _a child!"

"Then stop acting like one!" he growled.

"I don't see how I am. I'm acting like a woman who is unhappy about her accidental choice of husband!"

His eyes narrowed. "So I am to endure your insults forever? When will it end?"

"Never," her voice had grown cold. "Just stay away from me."

His eyes flared with anger as he grabbed her by the waist. In retaliation, she slapped him across the face. He growled loudly as he yanked her down to the ground, pinning her down with his weight.

"What are you doing?" she screamed as she started to panic.

"I've suffered about all that I can take from you," he growled as he moved down her body. Resting by her knees, he yanked his armored glove off and tossed it into the grass. With his naked fingers, he delved into her wet folds.

"Don't do this," she gasped out as her muscles tensed with pleasure.

"The beast has wanted to take you from nearly the beginning. He wanted to claim you as his mate, and he didn't care how he took you, whether it was by force or not. The beast wanted you again and again, until you finally submitted and recognized that you were its mate. He wanted you to know that your place was in its bed. But, the man in me wanted to figure out why he wanted you so badly. So, I tried to figure you out, what this fascination was. But, the more I learned, the more I fell in love with you. So, I fought him every moment of every day, because I loved you, and I didn't want you to be forced. I wanted to try and earn your love. But, the more I fought, the more frustrated I was. The more helpless the situation felt, and the more I lashed out at you. Maybe I would have never earned your love; maybe I should have let the beast have its way."

The pressure from his fingertips increased across her aching flesh. Her body arched with the delicious pressure and cried out. His words, oh, gods, his words. It should have disgusted her what he had just told her. But, the thought of Vilkas rushing into her room and tearing her clothes off only turned her on. Csatari knew that in the scenario, she would have been scared and confused. She would have fought back, maybe punched him in the face. There would have probably been a struggle, maybe some furniture breaking in the fight. But, once he did_ this_ to her, his fingers diving between her slick folds, some of her fight would have left her. She wouldn't have given up completely, making him work for it, writhing beneath him to make his efforts more difficult. But, once he was inside her, she would have fought him for control…made him work for it. Their lovemaking had always been a power struggle, Csatari forcing Vilkas to coax submission out of her. Though she had never admitted it, she_ loved_ it that way. She had never known how enjoyable it was, as Bulmond had always been sweet and gentle with her, but the struggle made the release all the more enjoyable.

_I would have been turned on if Vilkas had raped me? What is wrong with me?_ She felt disgusted until the voice inside her head asked, "Would it have been rape if you had wanted it?" The thought made her groan loudly. Seriously, what was wrong with her? She _hated_ this man, and now she was fantasizing about him attacking her?

"So what will it be, Csatari? Will you treat me with respect and talk to me? If all you will give me is a marriage like a friendship, then that's what I'll take. I want your trust, your respect, and I want you to confide in me. Will you give me that, or should I let the beast out of its cage and let it have its way with you?"

Csatari knew that she should say that she'd be his friend and find a balance between them. Her life would be the least stressful that way, would be the most peaceful.

"The beast can _try_ for my submission. But, I'll make the spirit work for it every single moment," she hissed out.

The pressure increased and she was mindless with pleasure, bucking her hips wildly against his fingers.

"But, that doesn't give me what I want. I want your heart; I want your love. So, I have another proposal for you." She could barely understand his words as the waves of pleasure consumed her.

"Farkas!" he called out.

Vilkas calling out to his brother made her desire temporarily wane as confusion set in_. Why was he calling over his brother?_

Csatari tilted her head backwards and watched an upside down Farkas step out of the water and walk towards him.

Oh, gods. How many nights had she fantasized about seeing him naked? Countless nights since she had showed up at Jorrvaskr. All of her dirty fantasies were materializing before her very eyes, coming true for her.

When Farkas neared them, Vilkas told him to sit down.

"W-what's going on?" she asked, breathless.

"I know you love my brother. But, I want your love. So, I am willing to let you satiate your curiosity and have a night with him, a night with both of us. After it's over, I expect you to work on getting over him and focusing your efforts on this marriage."

Csatari blinked. Had she heard him right? Vilkas was willing to share her with his brother? She smacked his hand away from her clit, she need all of her mental faculties for this.

"You could give me over to your brother so easily?" she asked.

"No, it would kill me a little inside, but it wouldn't be the first time that I gave you what you wanted to try and make you happy. And if you kept your end of the bargain, the happiness I could feel for years to come far outweighs the night of pain."  
>"What do you mean it wouldn't be the first time?"<p>

"The mage who you were in the drinking contest with invited us to a….strange garden party. You wanted me to come, so I went. To make a long story short, we made love there several times. I told you that I loved you and that I wanted to marry you. You agreed. When we dressed to tell Sam that we were going to leave and get married, he told us that the staff had broken on the trip, and that we had to do a few things to fix it. You were upset; you wanted that _damn_ staff so badly. All I wanted was to marry you. But, then he handed you another tankard of ale and you drank. When you finished it, you turned and looked at me with eyes that I had dreamt every night of you looking at me with…such love and desire. You kissed me and started ripping my armor off, and then I forgot about everyone else at the party as I started stripping you. But, then Sam started kissing down your back, and I was about to attack him. Then you asked if he could join. It broke my heart in two, but you told me that you had very little sexual experience and that if we were going to marry, you wanted to satisfy all of your desires beforehand. I wanted to marry you so badly, and I didn't want you to have any regrets or doubts, so I agreed. That's what we were fighting about when we walked into Mara's Temple, about Sam. I had called you a whore. That's why you punched me."

Csatari took a shuddering breath. "Makes sense why I punched you now."

"You're not a whore. I was angry and hurt. I questioned if you could ever be happy with just me. But, I had no idea then that my brother already had your heart."

"If the beast calls out so badly to make me its mate, and Farkas has feelings for me, doesn't that mean that his beast calls out for me too. If we did this, wouldn't that mean that the two beasts would fight for me as its mate?" She asked.

Vilkas shook his head. "My brother's wolf spirit doesn't want to mate with you. It'll be fine with giving you up."

Csatari turned towards Farkas. "Is that true?"

Farkas nodded. "My spirit has never wanted to mate with any woman before. None of us have ever gone through what Vilkas has experienced with you. The wolf did want to slaughter a herd of sheep last week, so I let it." He shrugged.

Oddly, his answer hurt her, ripped her apart at her very soul. Just the man wanting her wasn't enough; she wanted the wolf to want her too. All of these months of adoration and love for Farkas wilted like a flower, the dead leaves blown away with the wind. Csatari also realized just how difficult it must have been for Vilkas to have given her what she wanted. His pride was too great, and so to allow another man to be with them, he must have swallowed mountains of it…all for her.

She finally realized his depth of love for her. Though she still hadn't a clue why he loved her, Csatari knew without a doubt that he did.

"I don't want to do this," she whispered while shaking her head. Vilkas' brows furrowed at her words. "I don't want to sleep with Farkas. Stop fighting the wolf and let him have his way with me. I'll try really hard to be a better wife to you. I'll try to make you happy."

She stood up, leaving both of the man dumbstruck, and walked back into the stream. Grabbing her bar of soap, she scrubbed her body furiously from head to toe and then dunked herself into the cold stream. Both men just watched her, still naked, from the grass. After she toweled off, Csatari dressed in the clean clothes that she brought and walked back towards Whiterun.

How had this happened? She had always believed that she had married the wrong man, that she was with the wrong husband. But, suddenly it was looking like she had married the _right_ man. Through some strange turn of events, she had wound up with the man that she should have been with all along. But, she knew that they had a long way to go. Both of them had hot tempers and Vilkas' words always cut her deeply. Yes, they had a very long way to go. But, maybe if Vilkas knew that she was trying, he would try harder as well, cutting their needed efforts in half…if both were trying.

Csatari walked into Jorrvaskr, grabbed a sweet roll off the table before heading down to her bedroom. After devouring the treat in a few bites, she sat down on her bed. Tucking her legs into her body, she rocked herself back and forth. It had been a comforting technique that she had learned at the orphanage. When she had been upset, there had never been anyone who would comfort her, except at times Pearl, so she had learned to sooth herself this way.

Hot tears spilled down her cheeks and she was so disgusted at feeling them on her cheeks, that it only made her cry harder.

When her body was exhausted from rocking back and forth and all of those disgusting tears were finally done, Csatari grabbed her pillow and blanket and crawled beneath the bed. This was another behavior that she had learned at the orphanage. When _that bitch_ was looking for them, they hid under the bed. They were small enough as children that she couldn't reach them, and so they were safe for a little while. Until someone else angered her, and she took her wrath out on them. Pitting children against each other, hoping someone else received a whipping worse than theirs to spare them. It was disgusting, and Csatari felt the bile rise in her throat. It was okay, though, she was under her bed. No one could hurt her under her bed.

Csatari fell asleep quickly, but the dreams were quick to follow.

"_Who stole the loaf of bread?" Grelod screamed in that ear piercing voice of hers._

_Csatari looked up from her sewing, the way in which they earned their food. She hadn't taken it._

"_Oh, gods," Pearl whispered next to her. "I took it. I hadn't made enough shirts this week, and I'm starving. I didn't think she'd realize that it was gone." Csatari turned towards her friend sitting next to her who was cowering in fear._

"_If someone doesn't confess, you'll all get the belt!" Grelod screamed._

_The rest of the children cowered in fear. Csatari looked back at her friend who shook in fear._

_She steeled her nerve and stood up. "I took it," Csatari called out._

"_You!" Grelod's eyes narrowed as she pointed a finger at her. "I should have expected as much!"_

_She grabbed Csatari's arm and yanked her over to her bed. She ripped Csatari's shirt off and shoved her body down onto the bed with her boot. _

"_Look at these belt marks. All of these punishments you've had to receive, because you refuse to behave! You'll be a whore, an ugly whore, who will never have wealthy patrons because you're so ugly!'_

_Grelod ripped her long braided hair off her back and over her shoulder before Csatari felt the first sting of the belt across her back. She bit back a cry as the belt came down over and over across her skin, ripping her flesh apart. Csatari felt the blood oozing down her skin as the belt kept coming down on her skin. She fought back the screams and tears, because she knew that's what Grelod wanted, to hear and see her pain. She wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction. When the whipping was finally over, Grelod huffed, "Don't let me find you stealing from me again!"_

_Csatari exhausted, broken body slumped against the bed as she used all of her efforts to hold back the tears. _

"_Now get back to work!" she shouted. "You'll have to go naked for a while, since I don't want you staining your shirt with blood. Besides, you should get used to be naked, since all you'll ever become is a whore."_

_When Csatari could stand, she finally limped over to the table and sat down. _

"_Why did you do that?" Pearl whispered as tears glistened in her eyes._

_Her friend was so frail, never making enough clothes, and often went hungry. She was thin, too thin, and Csatari feared that one day, Pearl wouldn't survive the punishment. But, to be without her only friend was a fate that she feared more than the brutal pain. _

"_Don't worry about it," Csatari replied, "Just get working."_

"_I'll clean up your back later when Grelod goes to sleep," Pearl whispered. "Then we can sleep under our beds tonight."_

_Csatari nodded as her shaking hands picked up the needle and thread._

The dream changed….

_Her hands were bound at Helgen as she awaited her death. After all of these years of fighting and surviving, this is how it's going to end. I can't even fight for my death. I'm going to die for something I didn't even do._

"_The Nord in the rags!" The captain called out._

_Bitch._

_Csatari walked forward, as she swore that she would wait for this bitch to die in whatever came after this, and would haunt her ass for eternity._

"_To your knees!"_

_Csatari knelt down, right next to the dead Stormcloak's body next to her. The captain shoved her body down onto the chopping block with her boot. She stared up at the executioner, in defiance, as his blade rose above her head._

_This is it how it all ends in blood and pain, just like it's always been._

The dream changed again…

_Pearl ran up to her, grabbing her hands. "What are you doing? Get ready! Today is adoption day!"_

_She stared at her friend sympathetically. Pearl always was excited on these days. Csatari had lost hope a long time ago._

"_Come on! I'll help you get ready. I'll make your hair look pretty."_

_Csatari took out the one dress that she had, that was way too small for her, and after changing, put it over her head. There was no privacy at the orphanage- everyone's scars and failures out plainly for everyone else to see. It was even worse lately, because her body had started to change. She had grown taller faster, and these things on her chest were getting bigger. Some of the boys had been staring at her lately in a way that Csatari did not like at all._

_Pearl took the one brush that belonged to the whole orphanage and combed through Csatari waist length hair._

"_I hope we get adopted by people who let us visit each other," Pearled whispered excitedly._

_They always whispered their hopes and fears, so that Grelod couldn't try to use their words against them later on._

_Grelod walked over as Pearl began braiding her hair._

"_Don't know why you're bothering to get ready, whore. No one will ever adopt you." The old lady's eyes narrowed. "I'll make sure of it."_

_Csatari's shoulders slumped at the cruel woman's words. So today would be like every other adoption day._

"_Don't listen to her," Pearl said, "She can't keep someone from adopting you."_

"_Yes, she can, Pearl. She has all the power in here, and we have nothing."_

"_We have each other," Pearl wrapped her arm around her waist and squeezed her tightly. "That counts for something."_

_Csatari squeezed her friend back. "It counts for everything," she whispered._

A strong hand grabbed her arm and she cried out in fear.

"What are you doing underneath there?" he asked.

She took a deep, steady breath. It was Vilkas.

Csatari slid out beneath the bed and took out her pillow and blanket. One candle was lit in the room, that offered a soft glow to his features.

"I…" She didn't know how to explain.

Vilkas walked over to her, placing his hands on her arms. "You promised me that you would try. Did you not?"

Yes, she did, and if he really did love her, then his reaction to what she said was certainly a good test.

"When I lived in Honorhall, we would often hide underneath our beds and sleep there, because the woman who ran it couldn't reach us there." She shrugged. "Old habits die hard."

"Why were you there now?" he asked.

"Didn't know what to expect from you or Farkas. Don't like not knowing what to expect."

Vilkas wrapped his arms around her. "You were crying out."

"Bad dreams. Always bad dreams," she murmured.

"Then seek your comfort here," he replied as he held her tighter.

Csatari rested her head against his chest as he pressed her body against his. Tears dripped down her face. Gah! This was so disgusting, such a weakness on her part!

Vilkas tilted her chin upwards towards him and licked the tears off her cheeks.

She tilted her head up more and tentatively met his lips.

"Why? Why didn't you want what I offered you?" he rasped.

She lowered her head, staring at his chest. "Because I should have been scared by what you said. But, I wasn't; I was turned on. I think…I think the beast inside me has found its mate too. And it isn't Farkas. All I've ever wanted was to be loved for who I am, for someone to say that I'm worth it, that I'm worth _all of it_." She glanced up and met his eyes. "After what you offered me, I knew that I had found him."

Vilkas caressed her cheek, and leaned in to kiss her again.

When their lips parted she asked, "What am I? I have a wolf spirit in me; I have dragon's blood. When I killed that dragon, his blood spilled out. It didn't look like human blood, and that's the same blood inside me. So, what am I?"

Vilkas leaned his forehead against hers. "You're my wife and the Harbinger of the Companions. That's all you have to worry about right now. We'll find the answers to your questions. But, for now…don't fear the unknown."

She sighed in relief.

Csatari tilted her lips towards his again, nipping at his lower lip. He growled in response and backed her towards the bed. As he laid her down, his eyes questioned her.

"Yes, I want…" She swallowed roughly as she worked on uttering the rest of her feelings. "I want this comfort."

His eyes grew soft as he caressed her cheek. His lips found hers briefly before he slid down her body. He lifted the hem of her shirt up, licking from her belly button, up her stomach, in between the valley between her breasts, up her chest, to her throat. Vilkas pulled her shirt off, tossing it to the ground as he licked up her throat and kissed her chin. His lips found hers again as he slid her pants down her body. Vilkas kissed his way down her body before lying beneath her open thighs. Grabbing her thighs open, he licked her sensitive flesh, and she writhed beneath him.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her voice husky with desire.

"Comforting you," he replied.

His warm, wet tongue teased her again and she cried out. No one had ever done this to her before, not that she had ever remembered.

Csatari reached down, placing her hands on top of Vilkas'. He let her thighs fall to the bed, and laced his fingers in hers. The sensations were overwhelming washing over her, and her hips bucked and rocked against his tongue. When the fire nearly consumed her, the point of pleasure nearly reaching pain, she cried out her release as his tongue lapped at her.

Vilkas crawled up her body, growling, and kissed her. She tasted herself on his lips as she made quick work of his shirt and then his pants. Her hand slipped beneath his loin cloth to tease him, stroking him slowly. Vilkas growled in frustration and unbuckled the material. While tossing it to the ground, he rocked backwards on to his calves. Tossing Csatari's legs over his shoulders, he palmed her breast, and sunk into her depths. She cried out in pleasure as he moved inside her and above her to a slow rhythm. Csatari took his hand, that was busy teasing her nipple, and drew it into her mouth, sucking it vigorously.

Vilkas' head fell backwards and he drove into her with ferocity that she relished. He slammed himself inside her depths, with fierce determination. In return, she sucked on his finger harder. Vilkas tossed her legs down onto the bed, and grabbing her by the waist, flipped her over. His calloused hands spread her sensitive flesh apart widely as he slammed back inside her body. Her back arched as she cried out his name. One hand remained on her hip as an anchor as he pounded into her body, but the other caressed her back, his fingertips dancing across the scars on her back. And for a moment, she felt nearly whole. She had reason and purpose to her life, as though all that she had suffered in her life was necessary for this one moment.

"Vilkas, I-" She couldn't finish that sentence, unable to form the words. Instead, she merely groaned out loudly.

His fingers slipped between her sex, and rubbed against her. Vilkas showered her back with kisses as she screamed her release.

He slammed inside her twice more before coming undone himself. Soaked in sweat, but laughing, Csatari remained on her hands and knees as she tried to remember how to speak, or think, or do anything other than smile like a madwoman.

Vilkas brushed her sweat hair out of her face. When she leaned back towards him, their lips met. With her back flush against his chest, Vilkas held her throat as his tongue devoured her.

She finally pulled away to catch her breath, and both fell onto the bed in a heap of tangled limbs. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was asleep again.

When Csatari woke up, Vilkas was still sleeping. His arm was wrapped around her, holding her to his body tightly. Gingerly, she pulled out of his hold. Today was the day. The day she'd finally have some answers. The day she talked with her uncle.

She stared down at her husband, and thought about waking him up. But, what if this was an ambush? What if he really wasn't her uncle? What if Vilkas was hurt? She couldn't risk anyone else dying. No, she would have to do this alone.

Slowly and quietly, she began strapping on her wolf armor. When she sat down in a chair to slide her boots on, she heard, "Where are you going?"

Csatari glanced up to find Vilkas naked, sprawled out on her bed, with one eye open.

"I have to go and talk to my uncle today," she replied.

"You weren't going to wake me up?" he asked.

"I don't know if this is an ambush. I don't really know what this is. I can't risk you getting hurt."

Vilkas stood up and shook the sleep from his head. Walking over to her, he tipped her chin up to look into her eyes.

"I'm not lying," she whispered. "I do… I do love you."

Her words softened his expression. "Never go anywhere alone again. Do you hear me? Never alone again."

"Okay."

His thumb ran along her lower lip until she sucked it into his mouth. He gasped at her warm tongue running along his rough skin.

"Let me get dressed. Then we'll come up with a plan."

Her hand ran up his naked torso. "Maybe we could go back to bed for a little while first."

Vilkas smiled a wolfish grin at her that made her shiver in excitement as he lead her back to their bed and yanked off her boot.

"Sex, food, then plan." His voice was rough with need.

Already panting in anticipation, she nodded. "Sounds good."

His lips cut off anything else that she was about to say.


	28. Chapter 28

We live in cities you'll never see on screen  
>Not very pretty, but we sure know how to run things<br>Living in ruins of a palace within my dreams  
>And you know, we're on each other's team<br>I'm kind of over getting told to throw my hands up in the air  
>So there<br>I'm kinda older than I was when I revelled without a care  
>So there<p>

~Lorde- Team

Csatari fidgeted at the breakfast table, barely touching her food.

"Are you alright?" Vilkas leaned over and asked.

She offered a small smile. "Yeah, I'm just…"

"Nervous," he finished for her.

She nodded in reply. Yes, nervous was definitely the right word for how she felt. Csatari had learned a long time ago to never hope. Hope will kill you faster than anything else. And yet… she couldn't help but hope that this man, her supposed uncle, could be the family that she never had as a child. She hoped that he could fill this ragged hole in her heart that has always ached and could never be filled no matter what she did.

She hoped against her better judgment that he was what she has been yearning for her whole life.

"Don't worry. We'll figure out a plan." He brushed the inside of her thigh, causing her to jump in surprise as he flashed her a wicked smile.

"Aela, Farkas, when you're done breaking fast, I need you to-"

Vilkas lost his train of thought as a sweet roll sailed over the table and smacked Athis in the forehead.

"Hey! No throwing sweet rolls!" Csatari shouted. "That's an offense against Talos!"

Vilkas rolled his eyes at her before continuing on. "Farkas, Aela, meet us in the Underforge after breaking fast."

Both nodded, as they drank the rest of their ale.

Csatari played with her food, eating very little, until the rest stood up and began walking towards their secret meeting spot.

Last inside, all three glanced up at her.

"Um…" She glanced nervously at her husband. "Vilkas?"

Vilkas nodded curtly and stepped forward. "The bard that we chased down claims to have important information for Csatari. He wants to meet her today."

"You think it's a trap," Aela said.

"Undoubtedly," Vilkas replied. "But, our Harbinger wishes to go and hear him out…"

"So what's the plan?" Farkas asked.

"That's what we're all here to discuss," Vilkas replied.

"Where are you supposed to meet him, Harbinger?" Aela asked.

"Oh. Um. Well, he said to come to The Sleeping Giant Inn in two days _with _my husband and to tell Mralki that I was wondering what yesterday's special was."

Aela frowned. "It's definitely a trap. The Sleeping Giant is in Riverwood, but Mralki owns the inn in Rorikstead."

Csatari bit her lower lip. She didn't want to believe that this was a trap. Maybe her uncle was just being cautious.

"Here's what we'll do. Aela and Farkas, check out Riverwood. I'll go with Csatari to Rorikstead. If Riverwood is a dead end, come and meet us in Rorikstead," Vilkas commanded.

Everyone agreed to the plan, so an hour later, Csatari was packed and saddled with Vilkas on the road.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "You seem fidgety."

"I'm fine. I'm just…"

"Nervous," he finished for her.

She nodded, biting her lip.

"Whatever he says to you, it doesn't have to change anything. Not if you don't want it to. You have a home here with the Companions….with me. This uncle wasn't in your life before, so if you don't like what he has to say, he doesn't have to be in your life now."

"I know, Vilkas," she replied quickly to appease him.

Csatari didn't know how to explain what this meant to her, and she doubted he would understand. Farkas had told her a while back that their parents died in some horrific necromancer ritual, but the twins always had each other. They even made up a special language that no one else understood when they were young. The only person Csatari had was Pearl, who was the closest thing she had to family, and later Bulmond. And both were dead. She doubted that he could truly understand just how important this was to her. So, she didn't bother trying to explain and burdening him with more things to worry about.

"We'll see what happens when we get there," she said to end the discussion peacefully.

He nodded curtly and they traveled the rest of the way in silence.

Two hours later, they dismounted and handed their horses to the stable hand.

Too nervous to speak, Csatari began running towards the inn as Vilkas paid the boy.

"Csatari, wait for me!" he shouted out.

She halted in place, wringing her hands as he jogged to catch up with her.

"Don't go in without me," he reprimanded. "We still don't know if this is a trap."

"Right. Sorry. Wasn't thinking. I' m still a little…"

"Nervous," he finished for her.

She blushed as he chuckled, kissing her forehead. "You're adorable when you're out of sorts like this."

Her eyes narrowed. "Is that a compliment or an insult?"

He chuckled louder. "It's a compliment."

Wrapping his hand around her waist, he urged her forward. "Let's go find this uncle of yours and see what he has to say."

Once inside, Csatari didn't take in her surroundings, and instead rushed towards the inn keeper.

"Well, look who it is," he greeted upon see her. Vilkas hovered protectively next to her with one hand around her waist and the other on the pommel of his sword.

"Hey. Um. I was wondering what yesterday's specials were."

Mralki nodded and slid parchment towards her. Picking it up, she glanced at Vilkas, handing it to him.

"What does it say?" she asked.

"Come to the stables. Alone," he growled. "I _cannot_ allow this."

"Okay. So, I'll go out alone, and you can stay hidden and watch on," she suggested quickly to appease him.

"I think we should leave now. This smells wrong."

"Please," she whispered.

Their eyes met, and she knew that he still wasn't convinced.

"Please," she whispered again. "I _need_ this."

His face softened at her words. "Alright. You go out and I'll stay hidden and watch you."

"Thank you." Csatari barely uttered the words before she reached the door.

"Can I help you, Miss?" the stable hand looked up from his chores and asked.

"Oh. Um. No. I'm just waiting for someone. He told me to meet him here."

"Ah. I see. Well, in that case, I'll give you two some privacy," he said before winking at her.

Csatari's face flushed bright red as the stable hand walked out of the barn and into the inn.

"I told you to come alone," a voice said from behind her.

She whipped around in the direction of the voice to see the bard standing before her, leaning against the barn door. Seeing him in this light, she stood too shocked to speak. His eyes were the same color as hers and their bodies were the same build, both having tight, wiry muscles. They also had the same chin. _By the gods, I look like him! He really is family!_

"I did come alone."

He chuckled. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted or not by that ridiculous lie. Come out, wolf! I'm not going to harm my niece. You have my word!"

A moment later, Vilkas stalked into the barn with his hand still on the pommel of the sword.  
>"What is it that you want with her?" he growled.<p>

The bard raised his hands defensively. "Just to talk. Nothing more. She wants information. I have it. She needs to know it. I want to give it."

"Speak then," Vilkas growled.

"This conversation should be between Csatari and me. If she wishes to tell you, that's her business. So, why don't you wait in the inn?"

Vilkas opened his mouth, but Csatari shook her head at him. Whatever her uncle seemed to know about werewolves, he didn't know about their extra sensitive hearing. Sitting in the inn, Vilkas could still hear their conversation just fine.

"Fine." He marched over to the man, sniffing him. "I have your scent now. Harm her, and there's nowhere that you could hide where I won't find you."

"No threat needed. And my niece is pretty capable of taking care of herself. Isn't that right, Dragonborn?"

Vilkas glanced at Csatari and she could read his face plainly. He was still uncomfortable with the situation and didn't want to leave.

"Why don't you go get an ale? I'll be in soon," she encouraged.

He nodded curtly, threw the bard one last menacing glare, before storming off towards the inn. As soon as he was out of sight, the man turned towards her.

"So, Csatari…." He chuckled. "I always hated that name. It's a mouthful. I told your mother that, but she never listened to anyone. That's what she wanted to name you, so that's what you got stuck with. Anyways, do you like stories? Cause I've got one that you'll be interested in hearing."

"What's it about?" She asked cautiously.

"What happened to your mom and dad."

….

A/N: Thank you to everyone for reading and following this story. I want to give a special thanks to everyone who has reviewed. Your reviews put a smile on my face on bad days. Thanks so much.


	29. Chapter 29

I keep going to the river to pray  
>'Cause I need something that can wash all the pain<br>And at most I'm sleeping all these demons away  
>But your ghost, the ghost of you<br>It keeps me awake  
>~Ella Henderson- Ghost<p>

Csatari forgot how to breathe. Only until her lungs burned and demanded oxygen did she exhale and suck in new air. _Get your head together._

"What happened to my parents?" she whispered.

"Let's start the story further back…. Your mother's name was Helga, and she formed a mercenary band called the Bravehearts. They were powerful in their day, giving the Companions a run for their money. Your mother and father went to an old ruin to take out a group of Hagravens that were causing trouble. When they got there...The witches and Hagravens told them it was all a set up to get your mom out there. They traced her blood line and told her that she would give birth to the next Dragonborn. Your mother didn't believe them at first. I don't know how they convinced her, but they did. The Hagravens did some weird ritual, and your parents had sex there. And bam!" He clapped his hands loudly. "You were made."

"Ah, and I was always worried that my father plied my mother with cheap wine and promises he never intended to keep. Good to know the truth is creepier than that."

"Kid, they did what they had to because your mother understood that the world needed you."

"And why does the world need me?" she asked.

He sighed, and the way he looked at her, with fear and sympathy, made her stomach drop.

"Kid, I know it'll be hard to wrap your head around this, but, you've gotta save the world."

Her face fell. "That's a joke, right?"

"Naa, kid. That's why you were made. Your destiny is to save the world."

"From what?"

"All I know is that it's connected to the dragons and their return. That's all I know. Your name means warrior. Your mother wanted that name for you because she said you were going to be the greatest warrior that ever lived."

Csatari scratched her head in confusion. "Why would the Hagravens want a Dragonborn to live? They serve Hircine, and mages pray to….what's that god? Julianos?"

"They wanted you born, so they could kill you."

Csatari exhaled slowly. "So where are my parents now?"

"They died to save you."

"How? How do you know all of this? And how did I end up at Honorhall? And how are you related to me exactly? And why do I feel like there's something really big that I'm missing?"

"I was your father's brother." He glanced away quickly, letting out a shuttering sigh. "And your mother's lover. You and your mom have more in common than you think."

Realization dawned then as she stared at him. "She was in love with both of you."

"She loved me more," he growled, "but, she kept going back to him. I've no idea why."

Csatari sniffed back tears. "Because he was her light, the easy love. You were her darkness, her passion."

He eyed her carefully. "Speaking from experience, huh?"

She stared down at the ground.

"So, how did they end up dead?" she mumbled out.

"After you were born, the assassination attempts started. We woke up to find our entire inn on fire and barely made it out alive. Then there were a few attempts on you and your mom's life. She said we all had to get out of Skyrim. She wanted to hide you and raise you until the world needed you. Only I get the feeling she just wanted it to be you and my brother. But, I wasn't going to leave without a fight. So, we were trying to sneak you out of the country. I offered to take you and your mother and father went a different route. We were all supposed to meet up. I knew that if I had you, your mother would have to come back to me…at least one last time. Your parents took a stillborn baby with them, to throw the assassins off. They were ambushed and outnumbered. They died, and they all assumed you died with them. The only people who knew you were even the Dragonborn were those damn Hagravens. They must have been the ones who set up the ambush. Once I found out what happened, I took you to Honorhall. It was the last place anyone would look for you."

"Why did you dump me in that place? Why didn't you raise me?" she demanded.

"Maybe I didn't want to raise a kid who would look like my brother, and always be the kid that I didn't have with Helga. Besides, the orphanage took good care of you. I made sure you always had extra everything."

His words made her temper explode. She quickly unfastened her armor throwing it to the ground as she turned around.

"Is this what you call taking care of me, _uncle_?" She shouted.

"What is that?" he asked in horror.

"Your good job at taking care of me. Whip marks. I almost died twice. And I was hungry every day."

"Shit. Csatari, I didn't…" He balled his hands into fists. "That bitch told me you were doing good."

"Grelod the Kind?" She snorted. "More like Grelod the Monster. I can't read either." Csatari picked up her armor and refastened it. "So let's hope that saving the world doesn't involve me reading something, or we're all doomed!"

"I thought that old asshole taught you how to read."

"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK OF BULMOND! I WILL STRIKE YOU DOWN IF YOU EVEN SPEAK HIS NAME!" she roared.

The bard's jaw clenched. "Kid, he was old enough to know better, and he stole your innocence. How should I feel about him? I'm not sorry that he's dead."

"Stop calling me kid. I have twenty-three summers," she snapped.

He laughed loudly. "In what world have you seen twenty-three summers? You're twenty. Your twenty- first birthday is in two months on the tenth."

"No, it's not," she replied automatically.

"Kid, I was there the day you were born. I know how long it's been. You're only twenty."

"Then why did Honorhall let me out so early? I should have been in there for a few more years."

He shook his head. "I don't know why. All I know is that you've been on your own since you were ten."

"Bulmond saved my life. If he hadn't found me and taken me in to his mercenary band when he did, I would have died that winter. And as far as taking my innocence, I never had a childhood. I see children playing games in Whiterun that I have never played. Bulmond didn't take from me anything that I was not willing to give."

He opened his mouth to speak, but the barn trembled. The horses paced in their stalls in fear. Csatari closed her eyes and her heart sank when she heard the distant roar.

"What's happening?" he shouted in panic.

"There's a dragon outside," she replied as she drew her sword. "Think you could get everyone into the inn without messing that up?"

"You can't go out there!" He shouted in panic.

"I'm fulfilling my destiny, uncle. That's all I'm good for. Do what you're good at and disappear again," Csatari threw the words over her shoulder as she walked out the door.

In the nearby field, she saw the dragon shouting, freezing all the crops in the field with his icy Thu 'um.

"Dovahkiin," it drawled in its ancient voice.

"Ugly, stupid dragon, are you ready to have your soul devoured?"

The dragon's reply was an icy shout, and Csatari raised her shield just in time to shield her from the blast.

It roared again and Csatari lashed out, slashing the side of its mouth with her blade. She held enough anger inside her at the moment to kill ten dragons.

It lunged at her, and she rolled sideways, just in time to miss its jaws clamping down on her.

Turning quickly, she slashed its face again.

It turned quickly to snap at her, so she retaliated by slamming her shield into its nose.

"You shouldn't have picked a fight with a wife, dragon," a voice growled low and deep near her.

Csatari turned to find Vilkas stalking towards them with his greatsword in hand. She forgot completely that she was in the middle of a battle with a dragon…and just stared. He looked beautiful and deadly.

She blinked and remembered where she was and what she was doing.

_Time to slay the dragon, not drool over your husband._

As she lunged out, slashing the dragon's tough skin, an arrow whizzed past her head, landing in the soft skin between the dragon's plates.

"Die, dragon!" the voice demanded, and Csatari's spirit soared, knowing the voice belonged to the Huntress.

"Glory to the Companions!" another voice roared, and Csatari knew Farkas was near.

Knowing all three were there with her, Csatari opened her mouth and let the ancient magic fill her lungs. "Yol Toor!" The fire flew from her lungs, hitting the dragon directly.

The beast roared in anger. "Get to cover!" she shouted as she held up her shield in preparation of the icy blast she knew would come.

As soon as she felt the last of the chill against her legs, she pulled her shield down. "Now!" she shouted. "Give it everything you've got!"

The four slashed and hacked and swore loudly as Csatari kept the dragon's focus on her. They battled in the ancient way, shouting back and forth at each other as the buildings trembled around them while town guards joined in on the fight.

Vilkas slid his sword in between the dragon's scales and it roared in pain. As it turned to attack, she opened her mouth, "FUS RO!"

The ground trembled with her magic as the dragon turned its attention back to her. Csatari counted the moments between its shouts, and knew it didn't have enough magic built up to blast her again.

The dragon flapped its wings to take flight, and they were all knocked to the ground. She wouldn't let it get away. Not now.

"Aela!" she shouted with an outstretched hand.

Aela threw the bow, and she picked up a stray arrow lodged into the ground. Docking it, she found her prey in the sky. The arrow soared through the air, and instead of the dragon lifting up, it began plummeting back to the ground.

"TIMBER!" She shouted at the top of her lungs as she ducked for cover behind a hay bale.

The ground shook as the dragon crashed back down, and she wiped away the dust that was kicked up into the air.

Jumping over the hay bale, Csatari sprinted towards the dying dragon. Placing her foot on his head for leverage, she plunged the sword into its skull with all of her might.

Csatari knew that it was finally dead when the beast burst into flames. The whisps of ancient power locked on to her ankles and slowly made its way around her legs and up her body. She closed her eyes tightly as her soul hungered for the power it stole and the rush of memories from the ancient beast invaded her mind.

As her limbs trembled with the surge of power, she opened her eyes and locked on to his furious glare.

Vilkas slammed his blood covered sword into the ground and stalked over to her.

You should have been wearing your helmet," he growled as he took her face in his hands.

"Well, you should have-"

He cut her off with a kiss edged with fear, anger, and relief. As he pulled her closer, their armor clashed together as she bowed her body to his.

She finally yanked her head back, trying to catch her breath. "This is what I am, Vilkas."

His face contorted in pain. "Why does it have to be you?"

"I don't know, but they've been showing up everywhere I go lately. It's like the dragons are hunting _me_ down."

"If that's true, then how many more are there?"

"I don't know," she whispered back.

"So, what now, Haribinger?" Aela asked.

Csatari wiped the blood off her face. Whether it was hers or the dragon's, she wasn't sure. "Now we drink until we can't stay upright."

Farkas beamed with happiness. "I LOVE this plan. Glory to the Companions! We do good work together," he said as he threw his arms around Aela and Csatari's neck.

Csatari smiled. Leave it to Farkas to lighten the mood. "Let's go celebrate our victory."

Csatari walked over to the dragon and yanked a few pieces off of the remains.

"What's that for?" Aela asked.

"A souvenir," she replied. "I take a few from every dragon I slay."

The three Companions turned to walk in. They made it to the door before Csatari realized Vilkas wasn't with them.

She turned around to find him standing in the exact same spot.

"Come on. We've got drinking to do."

He glanced back at the dragon bones before looking back at her. Every emotion was written plainly on his face- fear, hesitation, worry.

"Last one in has to buy the first round!" she exclaimed, hoping that it would finally spur him into action.

He sighed before walking over to fetch his sword. Csatari sighed in relief when he sheathed his blade and walked towards her.

"I bet I can drink more than you," Farkas challenged.

Csatari glanced up at him. "You're on."

As Csatari entered the inn, she glanced around, looking for her uncle.

When he wasn't anywhere in sight, she wasn't sure if she was relieved or sad.

Upon seeing her, the entire inn roared in applause. Too shocked to speak, Csatari glanced around in confusion.

"Bless you, Dragonborn! Bless you!" a woman exclaimed with tears in her eyes.

"What's going on?" she whispered to Vilkas.

"The good part of being a hero," he replied.

Two men walked over to her and before she realized what they were doing, she was hoisted onto their shoulders.

"Our hero, our hero claims a warrior's heart…" the whole inn began to sing loudly.

Csatari glanced back at Vilkas who smiled proudly at her.

"Get the woman an ale!" someone exclaimed.

Csatari glanced around at the room at everyone singing and celebrating her as the two men spun her around the room. This would take some time getting used to. She wondered how her mother would have reacted to this situation. Would she have basked in the glory or feel as uncomfortable as Csatari did?

Someone held up an ale for her and she eagerly took it. She had done enough thinking for now. Holding it up high, she shouted, "One more dragon down! They will fear me, because I will kill them all!"

The tavern exploded in applause as it burst into a new round of singing.

Hours later, Csatari sang loudly off tune with Aela, their arms around each other as they danced.

Clashing mugs, they drank deeply.

Everyone from Rorikstead and the surrounding area packed into the tavern to celebrate the dragon's defeat.

"I'm on my sixth!" Farkas called out as a bar wench jumped into his lap nibbled on his ear. Sitting on the other side of the table, a pair of hungry eyes watched her as Vilkas sipped his ale.

Heat blossomed in her belly knowing that he had been watching her all night- his eyes never leaving her.

"I'm on my fifth. I'll be there soon!" Csatari called back.

A new song began and Csatari and Aela started dancing again as she called for another round of ales.

As she danced around, she could feel his eyes burning into her. Csatari glanced back at him over her shoulder. Feeling sexy and flirtatious, she blew him a kiss.

She spun around, singing loudly off tune, spilling more of her beer onto the floor then what made it to her mouth.

As the waitress came around, handing her another ale, she chugged it down to catch up with Farkas.

"Give me two more!" she exclaimed.

She eagerly grabbed the mug that the wench offered and relaxed her throat muscles as the ale poured down her throat. She slammed the empty glass down to quickly pick up the other.

As soon as she reached the bottom of the mug, the room began to spin.

She held her hands out in front of her to try and gain her balance.

"I think I need to sit down."

Aela laughed loudly as Csatari stumbled her way over to the table. She plopped down in an empty chair, her eyes nearly closed in her drunken haze.

"Are you having fun?" she asked Vilkas.

"Of course!"

She smiled widely at him. His icy blue eyes were so calm and peaceful as he smiled back at her.

"Come here," she said, gesturing for him to come closer.

He leaned over the table and she touched his face, feeling his rough stubble prick her fingertips.

"Vilkas," she sighed out, before leaning in and pressing her lips to his. He gasped, and Csatari froze in confusion. A moment later, he groaned loudly, deepening their kiss. His tongue was gentle instead of biting, asking instead of demanding. It was like a summer's breeze instead of a violent hurricane.

Csatari pulled back in confusion, staring at Vilkas. "What was that about?"

"Did you enjoy kissing my brother?" A voice growled above her.

Csatari glanced up at Vilkas standing above her, glaring at her furiously.

"What's going on?" she asked in her stupor as she glanced down at Vilkas in front of her.

He smiled back at her with such a calm, peaceful smile. Too calm, too peaceful. _That's not Vilkas._

She gasped as she let go of his face and glanced up at the furious looking Vilkas, the real Vilkas.

"I swear I thought he was you," she stammered.

"She even said your name," Farkas added.

Vilkas grabbed her arm roughly, She stood up, growling. "Let go of me. I said it was an accident. I'm sorry. It was an accident. I thought he was you."

He held her tighter, so when he refused to let her go she punched him in the arm. He cursed, but let go of her long enough for her to run out of the inn.

Csatari stared into the stream with her arms wrapped around her legs, watching the moon light dance across the rushing water. Despite the freezing temperature outside, the alcohol coursing through her veins kept her toasty warm. She heard the foot steps behind her, and knew immediately who it was, the left foot landing the same as the right.

"What are you doing out here, Farkas?" She asked without looking up.

"Aela is talking to Vilkas. Told them I'd come out and check up on you," he replied while sitting down.

"I'm sorry for causing this mess. I'm sorry for putting you on the outs with Vilkas. It was an honest accident."

"I know," he replied.

She glanced over and saw the black and blue around his eye.

"That looks like it hurt. Want me to take it away?"

When he didn't answer or acknowledge her, she touched her finger tips gently to the bruise, allowing the healing magic to pour out of her fingertips until it was gone. Csatari glanced back at the water and the moonlight playing off of the water's surface.

"We haven't done this in a while…sat outside, staring at the stars, talking," he commented.

"Not since I became Harbinger," she replied.

"Not since you married my brother."

Csatari swallowed roughly as the awkward silence fell between them.

"I lied to you." He frowned. "Well, I just didn't tell you the truth. Not sure if that's the same thing."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Yesterday, by the river…I told you that my beast spirit wasn't interested in mating with you…" Csatari nodded slowly for him to continue, unsure where he was going with this conversation. "What I didn't tell you…is that I'm in love with you. Well, I'm pretty sure that's what this feeling is. Never been in love before." Csatari forgot how to breathe as she stared at her husband's brother. "I should have never let you marry my brother. I should have told you how I felt earlier. Now it's too late." His lips curled up into a smile. "But, I don't regret kissing you, and I don't mind being punched by Vilkas for kissing you."

_Farkas kissed me?_ Her mind screamed the question, until she realized… he didn't push her away. He _deepened_ the kiss.

"Farkas, you have no idea how badly I wanted to hear you say that. I fell in love with you practically from the day I met you. I wanted to be with you so badly, but I never thought that I ever had a chance. And ou then I married your brother by accident, and now…I fell for him. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him. And now…what I feel for you is a different kind of love; I can't really explain. We could have had a good life together, but, Vilkas is my husband now, and what's done is done."

Farkas nodded slowly. "My brother deserves you. He's a good man, and he'll take care of you."

"Thank you for saying what you did," she whispered. "You have no idea how long I've longed to hear it."

The two stared out at the water, neither saying a word for a while.

Farkas broke the silence first. "So, you met the bard. How did that turn out?"

"Not like I expected." She frowned. "I had been hoping for something, but…it doesn't matter anymore."

"Well, what did he tell you?" he asked.

She glanced at Farkas who watched her patiently. He would wait as long as it took for her to speak she knew that. Why was it so easy to speak to Farkas and not Vilkas?

"He told me that my parents made me because they knew I'd be the next Dragonborn. He told me that I'm the reason that they're dead. They died to protect me, the Dragonborn. I was never wanted, Farkas."

He frowned momentarily. "I don't think that's true. I think they died to protect you, their daughter."

She shook her head. "No, he told me that I was conceived because they knew I'd become the Dragonborn."

He shrugged. "So that's why you were made. But, then you were born, and you were their daughter. Not a mighty warrior, just a little helpless baby. You were their daughter. They died to save you, because they loved you."

"You think so?" She asked with tears in her eyes.

"I think they did what any parent would do to protect their child that they loved. Who can say differently?"

Choke up, Csatari threw her arms around Farkas' neck. "Thank you," she whispered.

He hugged her, patting her back. "Vilkas is normally better at this stuff than I am."

"I think you did great."

Both heard footsteps behind them and pulled apart instantly. Glancing back, she looked at her furious husband.

"And that's my cue to leave," Farkas said while standing up.

Passing by Vilkas, he acknowledged him, "Brother."

Vilkas said nothing as he walked by.

When Farkas was out of sight, Csatari stood up. "I don't know what else to say. It was an accident. I thought he was you. I'm sorry."

"Why did you punch me inside?" he asked.

"Because it's a knee jerk reaction when someone grabs my arm."

"Why?"

Csatari ran a hand through her Mohawk. "Because when Grelod would grab my arm, she was about to whip me. So, now it's a knee jerk reaction to get away from someone grabbing my arm like that. I'm sorry; I don't mean to cause you harm. I can't help it."

He nodded slowly.

"Can we just forget this ever happened and go back to things being like they were?" she asked as she took a step forward.

He held his hand out and shook her head. Csatari stopped moving. And breathing.

"I'm heading back to Jorrvaskr to think. I already discussed it with Aela. She will travel with you tomorrow."

"You're going back to think about what?" She asked.

"How I feel about all of this," he replied.

"I don't understand. You were practically throwing your brother at me yesterday, and I refused. Now I accidentally kiss him thinking it was you, and now you're all out of sorts?"

"I'm not sure it was an accident," he replied.

Csatari huffed in annoyance. "If I wanted your brother so badly, why wouldn't I have slept with him yesterday when you offered?"

"Because I think you want him to yourself without me in the picture."

She threw her hands up in the air in frustration. "That's ridiculous!"

He shook his head. "I don't think it is. I saw the way the two of you are with each other. It's easy for you two in a way that it isn't with us."

"I may not be able to show you that I love you like other women, Vilkas, but when that dragon turned on you, I almost died inside. I would have given my life to save yours. I'm pretty sure that's love."

"Or someone with a warrior's heart," he replied.

"Fine! You want to go back to Jorrvaskr and think. Fine. I want to fight with you until you see how stupid you're being right now. But, I don't think that's what you're supposed to do when you love someone . I think you're supposed to respect how they feel or something…So, figure out whatever, and when I get back, I expect us to figure out how to move on from this. I promised you that I would try and be a better wife. I meant it."

"I don't know how much more I can take of this," he said before turning and walking away.

Csatari stood alone in the cold, wondering if she had made the right move.


	30. Chapter 30

I don't like walking around this old and empty house  
>So hold my hand, I'll walk with you, my dear<br>The stairs creak as I sleep, it's keeping me awake  
>It's the house telling you to close your eyes<br>And some days I can't even dress myself  
>It's killing me to see you this way<br>'Cause though the truth may vary  
>This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore<br>There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back  
>Well tell her that I miss our little talks<br>Soon it will be over and buried with our past  
>We used to play outside when we were young<br>And full of life and full of love.  
>Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right<br>Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear  
>Don't listen to a word I say<br>Hey!  
>The screams all sound the same<p>

~Of Monsters And Men- Little Talks

Csatari walked back into the inn, shaking off the cold.

"There she is!" a drunken farmer exclaimed. "Here! Have another ale!"

Csatari eagerly accepted the offered tankard. "Don't mind if I do."

Guzzling down the ale, she walked over to Aela. Finishing, she slammed the glass down on the table.

"So, Vilkas told me that you were my babysitter tomorrow."

Aela rolled her eyes. "He insisted. I've never seen Vilkas so fierce about anything."

Csatari sighed. "Being Dragonborn means lots of people want me dead."

"I dare them to get through me," Aela growled.

Csatari patted the Huntress' back. "Come. Let's drink some more."

Just then Farkas appeared with three tankards, placing them down on the table.

"You didn't go back with your brother?" Csatari asked, shocked to see him there.

Farkas shook his head. "He wanted alone time."

"So, he leaves you two drunk and alone together. Fine plan," Aela muttered under her breath.

"Does your brother do this often? Want to be off by himself?" Csatari asked.

Farkas shook his head. "Only when he's really angry. My brother is a hot head, though. Give him some time to cool down, and he'll see sense."

"I hope your right," Csatari mutterd in despair.

As they held up their tankards, clinking their glasses together, Csatari couldn't help the nagging feeling that maybe she should have chased after Vilkas. But, he wanted alone time. So, she should respect that, right? But, why did Vilkas leave her with Farkas, especially if he was convinced that she kissed him on purpose? Could she have even chased after Vilkas, though, drunk as she was?

She drank her ale quickly to make her head stop thinking.

…

"What's going on?" Csatari asked in a drunken slur as she realized that she was flying through the air. "I am a dragon!" she giggled out.

"You fell asleep on the table," a sleepy voice said beneath her.

"I did?" she asked.

"Yeah, a song or two ago. So, I'm helping you into your room."

"I didn't have a room. Did you get me one? And who's carrying me?"

"It's me, Farkas. Aela couldn't carry you. And, yes, I got you a room."

Csatari felt all warm and fuzzy inside. "Thanks, buddy. You're the best!"

Farkas walked into a room and with painstaking gentleness, slid her off his shoulder and down onto the bed.

"Thanks," she breathed out, realizing that her head was resting on the pillow.

"No problem. See you tomorrow," he said before walking out.

A moment later, Csatari's eyes fluttered closed.

…

Csatari stood up in a field of flowers, looking around.

Pearl walked over to her from across the field and Csatari smiled.

"You're a killer, Csatari. You killed your parents."

"Wait! No! I was a baby."

Her uncle walked over, placing his arm around Pearl as both looked at her with disgust.

"You are a killer, niece."

"Murderer," Pearl added.

…..

"Csatari, wake up!"

She bolted upright in her bed, realizing that a hand was covering her mouth.

"It's me, Farkas," the voice whispered as he slowly took his hand away.

"Farkas, what are you doing?" she asked in the dark.

"You've been screaming and shouting jibberish for almost an hour. You're waking up everyone in the inn. I told them I'd see to you."

Her limbs trembled as sweat poured down her forehead. "I'm sorry. This always happens after I take a dragon's soul. I have terrible nightmares all night."

"Does my brother know this?"

Csatari's eyes adjusted to the pitch dark and could make out Farkas' outline kneeling next to her bed.

"Yes," she replied as she leaned on him and began to cry.

He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tightly.

"Move over," he said.

Without thinking, she slid against the wall, and Farkas climbed into bed.

"Rest," he said as he pulled her against him.

Her head hit the pillow and her eyes closed.

The dragon soared high in the air, blasting the buildings below with ice. Buildings crumbled from his icy blast. People below screamed in terror as they tried to flee.

You cannot run from me.

Pearl stood there defiantly. "You're a murderer."

The dragon roared as it let out a mighty blast of ice. Her uncle jumped out, pushing Pearl out of the way.

"What are you doing?" The bard shouted. "Stop killing!"

They will all die.

...

"Wake up. It's only a dream. Wake up!"

Csatari bolted upright with a hand over her mouth again.

"You okay?" he asked in a sleepy voice.

Shaking, she wiped the sweat off her forehead. "No."

"What are the nightmares about?" he asked.

"I'm a dragon destroying everything in sight."

Farkas hugged her, and she rested against his chest, trying to catch her breath.

"You had to slay the dragon to take its soul. Maybe you have to slay the dragon in your dream to stop having the nightmares."

"That might actually work," she said.

"Worth a shot," he replied. "You've woken up five times already."

"I have?" she asked in surprise.

He yawned. "Yeah. It's been a long night."

"Thanks, Farkas."

"Don't mention it."

Csatari's head hit the pillow again.

….

Csatari stood up in a field of flowers, looking around.

Pearl walked over to her from across the field and Csatari smiled.

"You're a killer, Csatari. You killed your parents."

"Wait! No! I was a baby."

Her uncle walked over, placing his arm around Pearl as both looked at her with disgust.

"You are a killer, niece."

"Murderer," Pearl added.

Slay the dragon, Csatari.

"You're not Pearl. You're a cheap imitation of the real one. Pearl would never call me a murderer even if I was one. She was always saw the good in people. Be gone, ghost."

Pearl vanished into nothing more than a whisp of smoke.

"And you?" She turned to her uncle. "You're angry that in the end, my mother chose my father, that she wanted him even in the afterlife. You're using me as your scapegoat. The past is gone. Let it go and move on."

Her uncle vanished into another whisp of smoke. Csatari stood in the field alone.

She soared high in the air, blasting the buildings below with ice. Buildings crumbled from his icy blast. People below screamed in terror as they tried to flee.

You cannot run from me.

Pearl stood there defiantly. "You're a murderer."

The dragon roared as it let out a mighty blast of ice. Her uncle jumped out, pushing Pearl out of the way.

Csatari looked down below and watched herself walk out of a building.

"You will not take another life. You're searching for me. Let it end between us."

She landed on the top of a building.

Kill me, Csatari. Stop me from killing more people.

She watched herself take out her bow and dock an arrow. "This land belongs to men. You have no place here, dragon."

The arrow soared through the air, hitting her in the chest.

She plummeted to the ground as she watched herself walk over to her.

Csatari pulled out her blade and plunged it into her chest.

"Be gone, dragon."

And she was free.

…..

"Are you alright?"

Csatari felt a cool, wet washcloth over her forehead.

"You've been shaking for a while now."

Csatari sighed in relief, lying back down on the bed. "I slayed the dragon."

"Good." She could feel his smile even in the dark.

"Hopefully that means no more nightmares."

"Hopefully."

He took the washcloth off of her head and placed it on the night table.

Lying back in bed, Farkas pulled her against his chest.

Csatari fell into a deep sleep.

…

She awoke to sunlight pouring in through the cracks in the door. Glancing over, she found the bed empty. Had she dreamt that Farkas was in bed with her? She couldn't tell what was reality and dream from the night before. Taking a deep breath to shake the sleepiness from her mind, she tossed her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Picking up her sack from the corner of the room, she tossed it over her shoulder and walked out the door towards a new day.

Aela and Farkas sat at a eating breaking fast.

"There she is. We were wondering when you'd wake up," Aela greeted.

"Sorry," she replied while sitting down. "Very bad night. Full of nightmares."

"Yes, I heard. We all did. Is it always that bad?" she asked.

"Last night was the worst yet. Maybe it has to do with the strength of the dragon, because this morning I feel incredibly powerful."

"Interesting," Aela murmured.

"Hey, do you want to come with me to an ancient Nordic ruin?" Csatari asked. Aela arched a brow. "I need to retrieve this horn from Ustengrav before the Greybeards will continue training me. I've put it off for a while now, but I think it's time. And Vilkas said he wanted some time alone…"

Aela smiled. "The mighty Dragonborn fears her husband."

Csatari grimaced. "I fight dragons, but I'm not suicidal. I…I don't know how to fix this."

Aela offered a weak smile. "Very well. I'll go with you."

Csatari sighed in relief. Noticing Farkas glancing at her from the corner of her eye, she said, "May I speak to you in private?"

"Sure," he replied. "After you get some food in you."

She held her arm up and a wench came by eyeing up Farkas.

"Can I have whatever they're having?"

"Sure, Dragonborn, coming right up for you."

Csatari blushed, shaking her head. "I haven't gotten used to people calling me Harbinger. Now people are calling me Dragonborn. Very strange."

"What's strange about it? It is who you are," Aela asked.

"I'm just having trouble accepting all of this. That's all," she replied.

The woman placed down a plate of snowberry bread and fruit.

"Thanks," Csatari said before biting off a hunk of bread.

When they were finished with breakfast, Csatari glanced at Aela. "Would you mind getting Alfie from the stable, friend, while I speak to Farkas?"

Aela glanced back and forth between Vilkas and Farkas. "Sure."

Once she was out of the inn, Csatari glanced at a nervous looking Farkas. "I had many strange dreams last night. But, the strangest is that I dreamt that you slept in my room last night."

He cocked his head to the side. "That would be strange?"

"That would mean the end of my marriage," she explained. "Vilkas made rules in Riften for us to follow. One of those rules is that I could never tell anyone about my feelings for you, which I kind of broke last night when I was drunk and told you that I had been in love with you. Then there was me accidentally kissing you. Another rule was that you could never be in my room or me in your room. Ever. So, if you slept in my bed last night…" Csatari shook her head. "I'm trying, but I'm losing him. I can feel it. He just wants so much so fast, and I don't know how to give it."

"Well, you have nothing to worry about, because I didn't sleep in your room last night." Farkas flashed his easy smile.

"Oh thank the gods." Csatari sighed in relief. "So, my marriage isn't doomed."

"Nope."

"Will you be alright going back to Jorrvaskr by yourself?" she asked.

"I'll be fine." He offered another easy going smile.

"Want to take Alfie back with you so that the trip's faster?" she asked.

"No. I'll be fine. I'll tell my brother that you're going to Ustengrav. See ya back at Jorrvaskr."

With that, he stood up and walked out of the inn and she quickly followed.

….

Running down the steps two at a time, she skipped over to her friend.

Taking the reins, she tossed them over its head. "Hop on. Alfie can take us both."

Aela mounted and Csatari climbed on from behind. Holding on to her friend's sides, she nodded to go.

…

As sunlight slipped away, they reached the town of Morthal.

"Is it much past this?" Aela asked.

Csatari took out the map from between her breastplate.

"I don't think so?" she offered while trying to unfold the map.

"Give it here." Aela grabbed the map from her. "You look like a chicken flapping its wings."

Csatari had no idea why that struck her as funny, but she threw her head back and laughed.

Aela shook her head, while studying the area.

"It's over there," Aela said while pointing to the west. "We're not far."

"Thank the gods," Csatari replied. "Because it's been a very long and bumpy ride."

"You can piss on the first Draugr we see."

Csatari laughed loudly as they trotted on. Time with other female warriors was good for the soul she decided.

…

Mages everywhere. Even worse, necromancers. Csatari killed them without hesitation. After what happened to Vilkas' parents, she held no love for anyone who would perform such profane magic.

Aela glanced at her as the last of the draugr fell. "Now what?"

"I'm not sure," Csatari replied while looking around. "We've got to be careful, though. These places are filled with traps. I've learned that the hard way."

Glancing around the corridors, she pointed forward. "I think we go that way."

"Then lead on," Aela said.

Csatari took a deep breath before walking on.

….

"This place feels like a maze. We've been walking around rooms and walkways forever now. Are we actually getting anywhere?" Csatari groused.

"Draugr!" Aela called out. Docking her brow, the arrow soared through the air towards the upper walkway.

As soon as the arrow found its target, the skeleton plummeted to the ground.

"How do you do that?" Csatari asked in amazement. "Consistently kill with one shot. I mean…a dragon is a big target to hit, but these little guys. They're so easy to miss."

"It's all about the placement of the arrow and how far back you draw your bow. We'll work on it when we get back to Jorrvaskr."

"Good. With all these dragons around, I'll need the practice," Csatari replied as they walked on.

They reached a cave looking area.

"Well, this looks new." The deep roar of draugr hit her ears. "Damn, this place is crawling with them!"

Csatari took out her bow as the cursed eyes of the skeletons lit from above.

Docking an arrow, she pulled back her drawstring.

"Farther back," Aela instructed.

Csatari pulled the bowstring back until she was sure that it would snap.

"Focus on your target and exactly where you want to hit it. Inhale. Let the arrow go. Exhale on release. It'll help with your focus."

Focus. Arrow in the head. Inhale. Release with the arrow.

The arrow soared through the air, and the draugr fell on impact.

"YES! Did you see that? That was awesome!" Csatari exclaimed.

"Celebrate later! There's more undead to kill!" Aela shouted.

"Oh, right…." Csatari docked another arrow and let it fly through the air.

Once all the undead were dead again, Csatari glanced around the cave and heard the song.

"There a magic wall here," she said. "It's music is calling to me."

"You hear music?" Aela asked.

"Yes. Beautiful music."

Csatari walked straight and the music grew louder, so she continued down the path. When she reached the pool of water, the music was pounding in her head.

"Look at that," Aela murmured.

"it's the magic wall," Csatari replied as she stepped closer to it.

The magic took over, and just like before, she temporarily lost her sight as the knowledge of the word filled her mind.

"What just happened?" Aela asked. "Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm beginning to learn how to…" How did she explain what she just learned? "How to disappear." When Aela arched her brow in confusion, she said, "Don't worry about it. Let's keep going."

They walked up the pathway and continued on.

Hearing the Draugrs' growls above them, both instantly raised their bows and shot down the skeletons.

"What is this?" Aela asked at the stones in front of them.

"I don't know. Some kind of puzzle?"

Csatari walked up to one of the stones and watched it light up. Hearing a loud noise behind her she saw one of the three gates raise.

"I wonder if…." Csatari walked over to another stone to watch it light up and the middle gate raise.

"What should we do?" Aela asked.

"I think I know what to do," Csatari said as she walked past the stones.

Csatari let the ancient Thu'um fly out of her throat and she was flying.

Oh Gods, she was going to smack into the gate!

"Wuld!" she shouted and closed her eyes.

When she finally stopped flying, she opened her eyes to find herself standing on the steps as Aela ran towards her.

"What was that?" she asked in amazement.

"A Dragonborn trick," she replied with a smile. "Come on let's get this over with so we can get outta here."

As they walked to the top of the steps, Csatari stopped. "The floor looks different here."

Picking up a rock, she threw it, and flames shot up from the floor. Glancing at Aela, she asked, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Harbinger," Aela replied instantly.

"Then hop on my back. We're going for a ride."

Aela hesitated before Csatari nodded in encouragement. Hopping on her back, Csatari struggled to keep her up.

"Maybe you should have taken it easy on the breakfast." Csatari teased as she was swatted on the shoulder. "Kidding. Okay. Hold on tight. Wuld."

Csati shouted the Thu'um one more time to end up on the other side of the room.

Csatari threw her arms out in fear of hitting the door. Oh, God this is going to hurt.

Her feet stopped moving an inch from the door, and she felt her heart in her throat.

"Spiders!" Aela jumped down to kill the insects now circling them as Csatari tried to find her breath from her near collision.

"All dead," Aela announced, and Csatari pushed open the door.

The floor began to shake and Csatari held her hands out to steady herself as statues rose from the water.

"Incredible,"Aela commented and Csatari nodded at the sight. Slowly, she took a step forward and quickly ran across the pathway to her prize.

She stared at the place where the horn should be.

"What is it?" Aela asked.

"A piece of parchment. Would you mind reading it?" Csatari asked as she swallowed her pride.

Aela took the paper and scanned it. "It's telling you to go to the Riverwood Inn and that it's urgent." She growled. "Someone took the horn."

Anger rose in her chest. "Then someone's going to be very sorry. Come on. Let's get out of here."

…

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Harbinger?" Aela asked at the edge of Riverwood.

"Not at all. So, let's go."

"I have a suggestion. The note said to ask for the attic room. Let me go in. If it's a trap, you'll know to stay away."

"Aela, I can't ask you to…"

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't comfortable with the plan."

Csatari tapped her on the shoulder. "Thank you, friend. Let's just hope no one I know here recognizes me."

"Keep your helmet on," she suggested.

The two trotted into the quiet city and dismounted Alfie when they reached the inn.

"As soon as you get the horn. Get out."

Aela nodded before walking into the tavern.

Csatari led Alfie to the stream as she waited, worried that she would run into someone she knew.

Not long after, Aela ran up to her.

"Did you get it?" she asked.

Aela tossed her the horn, and Csatari threw it into her sack.

"And?"

"The owner of the inn took it. She wanted me to follow her into another room, but I left."

"You weren't hurt, though, right?" Csatari asked.

Aela shook her head.

"Then it seems I owe you a favor. I promised that when my leg healed I'd go with you to retrieve a totem. Now seems like a good time, if you're up for it."

Aela smiled widely. "Still scared of your husband?"

"I'm hoping that with all of this killing, I'll figure out something clever to say to him. I've got nothing so far."

"Then let's do some more killing."

…..

One day later….

"I don't know what's worse, necromancers, draugr, or vampires," Csatari groused as they trotted up to Whiterun stables.

"Well, all that matters is that we retrieved it."

Csatari smiled triumphantly. "Yes, we did."

When Alfie stopped, Csatari groaned from her sore and bruised muscles as she dismounted. Aela hopped off and Csatari handed the horse over to the stable hand.

"Extra oats for her," she commented before yawning.

The two made their way into Whiterun and Csatari sighed in relief upon seeing Jorrvaskr. She missed home. She missed Vilkas.

As soon as she reached the steps, she glanced up and faltered.

Standing on the top step, her uncle looked down at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Wanted to talk, kid," he replied in a tired voice.

Aela glanced back and forth between her and her uncle. "I'll take my leave now."

Csatari nodded as Aela made her way up the steps.

"I thought we said all that we had to say to each other," she said to her uncle when Aela was inside.

"I'm sorry, kid. I should have raised you," he said in earnest. "But, my brother and lover were dead and I had you, this little baby in my arms. I didn't know anything about taking care of a kid. You would have been sick of me quick and left me a long time ago." He ran his hand through his chin length hair. "I can't change the past, but I can give you something for the future."

Csatari cocked her head to the side. "What is it?"

"Come with me to the inn. You'll have to see it to believe it."

That small bit of hope that hadn't died out floated up inside of her chest.

"Alright."

Csatari followed her uncle down the steps of Jorrvaskr and through the city.

"Where's Vilkas?" he asked.

"I think he's inside Jorrvaskr," she replied.

"Why isn't he with you?" he asked as he opened the door to the Bannered Mare.

"We had a fight. He left for some alone time," she explained.

Her uncle shook his head. "Kid, you cant-"

"I was with Aela," she quickly interjected. "She's a skilled warrior. It's fine."

He sighed as he motioned for her to walk through. "Your present is upstairs in the bedroom." She arched a brow at him. "Trust me on this one."

Maybe she shouldn't trust him, this near stranger, but she couldn't help it. She _wanted_ to _believe._

Walking up the steps, she walked to the door and after taking a deep breath, opened the door.

"Hi, Csatari."

Csatari dropped to her knees at the doorway in shock. "If this is a dream, I don't want to ever wake up," she whispered as tears fell.

The vision rose from the bed and walked over to her, placing her small, delicate hands on Csatari's cheeks. "This isn't a dream. It's really happening, sis."

Breaking down, Csatari began to cry uncontrollably and she threw her hands around the woman's waist and sobbed out, "Pearl."

…..

A/N: As many of you have pointed out, Csatari is VERY immature. Not growing up with family to love and guide her, she is stunted emotionally. But, I am a HUGE fan of character evolution. So you will begin to see a new Csatari emerging. Very soon.

I want to thank everyone for reading and especially reviewing. I appreciate the time you take out of your busy lives to type me your thoughts. I read and re-read every single comment. You have no idea how your words have touched my heart. This has been a rough year, as I found myself a single mother, but now that I've got a handle on things, you can expect regular updates again. WOOHOO!

Also, Happy Holidays to everyone reading. I hope you get everything you wished for.


	31. Chapter 31

I'm holdin' on your rope,  
>Got me ten feet off the ground.<br>And I'm hearin' what you say,  
>But I just can't make a sound.<br>You tell me that you need me,  
>Then you go and cut me down...<br>But wait...  
>You tell me that you're sorry,<br>Didn't think I'd turn around  
>And say...<br>That it's too late to apologize.  
>It's too late...<br>I'd take another chance,  
>Take a fall, take a shot for you.<br>I need you like a heart needs a beat,  
>But it's nothin' new!<br>I loved you with a fire red,  
>Now it's turnin' blue<br>And you say...  
>Sorry, like an angel<br>Heaven let me think was you  
>But I'm afraid...<br>~One Republic- Apologize

"I don't understand. I went to the docks looking for you. They told me you died of a skooma overdose. If I thought that you were alive, I'd never have stopped looking for you," Csatari breathed out in a rush.

"Why don't we go inside and we'll tell you the story," her uncle said with his hand on her back.

Finding strength in her limbs, Csatari stood up and all three walked into the room. Her uncle closed the door as Csatari sat down on the bed next to Pearl.

"The night I overdosed on skooma, your uncle came. He found me and poured health potions down my throat. Then he took me to a healer. Once I was saved, Jack told me that he was your uncle, and that he was checking on me for you. "

Csatari glanced at her uncle in confusion. "Grelod never told me much about you. She would just say that you were doing well. But, once she let it slip that you and Pearl were close. So, I watched after her for you. Showing up that night to find her was either luck or fate. I don't know."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier that she was alive?" Csatari asked.

"Because I was really sick, Csatari. After I survived the overdose, the skooma had still ravaged my body. I could barely sit up without help. Then Jack helped me beat my skooma addiction. After that, I was not in a good place. The drugs had made me weak mentally and physically. But, Jack told me that you were the Dragonborn, destined to save the world, and that you would need our help. It helped me through the worse nights. I had to be strong for you, and I had to leave my old life behind," Pearl said.

"So, where did you go? What did you do?" Csatari asked.

"Jack took care of me, and we've been watching you. We lost you when you joined that mercenary band. We couldn't find the cave. Then you were taken to Helgen, and we found you on the cart. We knew that we couldn't attack the Imperial guards." Pearl's eyes filled with tears. "I was so scared for you seeing you bound on that cart. We were trying to figure out a plan. Then the dragon attacked. We ran into Helgen to find you, but you vanished."

"I went into underground caves that ran through the town and exited near Riverwood," Csatari explained.

"Smart, kid," her uncle complimented.

"When we didn't find your body at Helgen, we hoped against hope you had maybe gone to Riverwood. We heard the shop keeper talking about you finding some claw for him, so we knew you had survived. We tried to find where you could have gone and moved on to Whiterun. Then we saw you…fighting a giant. Oh my gods, my heart leapt into my throat!"

Csatari smiled, remembering that day. The day she met the Companions.

"I wanted to tell you then, that I was alive, and that Jack and me would help you, but he said I had to patient. It wasn't the right time."

"Why did you trust him?" Csatari asked.

"Because Jack had fed, clothed, and protected me for years while asking nothing in return. I had no reason not to trust him," Pearl replied.

Csatari nodded. She understood exactly how Pearl felt. It was the same way she felt about Bulmond. She trusted him implicitly and would have followed him into the Void if he had asked her to.

"Then when we saw that you were a Companion, I wanted to tell you. I asked him again, but…he said that your dragon soul was awoken and that you weren't stable yet."

"After you joined the Circle," Jack clarified.

_After I became a werewolf._

"Is that why you didn't bring her the first time we met?" Csatari asked her uncle.

He nodded. "I wasn't sure how in control you were. I knew that if you harmed her accidentally, you would have never forgiven yourself. How you reacted to anger or pain or shock, I wasn't sure. I couldn't risk it."

"So you used yourself as the test subject," Csatari said and her uncle nodded in reply.

He came to sit down on the bed next to her. "I never asked Pearl about Honorhall. Maybe it was because of my own shame or fear of what I'd hear, but after we spoke in Rorikstead, I went back to our camp and asked her to tell me everything." He turned pale. "She told me more than I could handle- how you took lashes for the other children, how horrible the conditions were, how Grelod treated you, how you were all forced to work for food."

"He threw up all night," Pearl added.

"I watched you take down that dragon in Rorikstead. You faced down a dragon and didn't even blink. You're so fearless- just like your mother." Csatari heard the distant ache in his voice. "I can't take back the past, and I know sorry doesn't cut it, but-"

"We're even," Csatari said quickly as she pointed to Pearl. "For this, we're even."

"She'll never want to leave you now, kid. And I…want to be around too. If you're okay with that."

He glanced away quickly, and she realized that they shared another similarity- not comfortable expressing emotions and feeling vulnerable.

She stared down at the wooden floor. "I really want you two to stay. I want to make up for lost time."

"Then we'll stay," he replied. "We took jobs as farmers outside of Whiterun."

"My family isn't going to work themselves to the bone as farmers," Csatari scoffed. "I'll figure something else out."

"Soo…where's that husband of yours?" Pearl asked with an excited grin. "I'm dying to meet him." She grabbed Csatari's shoulders and shook her. "I can't believe you're married! Is he nice? How did you two fall in love? How did he ask you? I have to know the whole story!"

"Vilkas," Csatari breathed out. She jumped off the bed. "Come to Jorrvaskr. I want you to meet him! I want you to meet all of my friends!"

Both stood and followed her as she took the steps two at a time. She flew out of the Bannered Mare and sprinted ahead. Taking the steps of Jorrvaskr two at a time, she flew into the ancient mead hall.

"Where's Vilkas?" she asked Njada, who happened to be the first person she saw.

"He went to Ysgrammor's Tomb with Farkas. Vilkas was shouting the entire time at Farkas, but none of it was making any sense." She shrugged.

_Why would he go to Ysgrammor's Tomb?_

Realization dawned on her, and she flew down the stairs to her room. Yanking open the trunk, she opened the bag containing the witches' heads and counted twice.

_No,no,no. This can't be happening._

In a panic, Csatari ran back upstairs. She found Jack and Pearl standing near the entrance, glancing around.

"Take her back to the inn and don't leave until I come back for you," Csatari said in a rush.

"What's going on, kid?" He asked.

Csatari grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Pearl. "Vilkas has gone to change himself…forever," she said in a low voice.

Thankfully, he picked up on her meanly instantly. "There's a cure?"

"Only for the Companions," she whispered back. "It's complicated and too long of a story right now. He's gone to cure himself. I have no idea why."

"Why don't you cure yourself?" he asked in earnest.

"Because I need the edge right now. I can't be poisoned, I can't get sick, and I don't feel cold. My hearing is so sensitive that I hear conversations going on below us, I am faster than a horse, and have the strength of ten men," she whispered back.

His eyes widened. "I thought those tales were fake."

"They're real, but I have to go before he does something that he'll regret. Take her back to the inn. I just need a few days to figure everything out. If you need money, I have it."

"Don't worry about the money. We're fine. Just go do whatever you have to for him."

Csatari glanced at Pearl, who looked around nervously. "What's going on, Csatari?"

"My husband's in trouble, and he needs me. I need to go help him."

She blinked in confusion. "Well, okay then. Go help him, but be careful, and come back soon."

"I'll be back before you know it."

As Jack ushered a confused Pearl out of Jorrvaskr, Csatari shouted, "Aela, I need you!"

Aela came rushing in from outside. "Yes, Harbinger?"

"Underforge now," Csatari growled as she walked past her friend towards the door.

As soon as they were inside the meeting place, Aela pointed to the totem. "I think it works," she said.

"We don't have time for that right now. Farkas and Vilkas have taken two witch heads to Ysgrammor's Tomb."

"Those fools…"

"They have no idea what's going to happen once they drop the heads into the flames. We need to hopefully talk them out of it, but if not, make sure they don't get killed by their own wolf spirits."

Aela nodded and began stripping off her armor immediately.

"The sun is nearly set and you're faster than a horse," she explained.

Csatari nodded and started stripping off her own armor. As soon as she was naked, both women began to transform. Once completed, they hit the ground at full sprint.

…

After killing a few bandits along the way and devouring their hearts, Csatari and Aela made it all the way to the tomb. They transformed somewhere in Winterhold, and after finding armor and weapons, ran the rest of the way. Pushing the door open, she sprinted through the tomb towards her husband.

"You sure about this, brother?" Farkas asked.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life," Vilkas snapped back.

_I'm going to kill both of them._

Sprinting into the room, she stared at the two men as Aela ran into the room.

"What are you're doing, besides being trying to get yourselves killed?" Csatari snapped.

Vilkas' gaze finally met hers, and what she saw there, froze her in place. His normally glacial blue eyes were as cold as ice.

"I'm going to ask you this once. Did you sleep with my brother in Rorikstead?"

"Of course not!" She answered automatically.

His eyes narrowed to slits. "Do you take me for a fool? How is it so easy for you to lie right to my face?"

It was the conviction in Vilkas' voice that gave her pause.

She glanced back and forth between the brothers. "What are you talking about?"

"After I left, I went home. I tossed and turned for hours in bed until I realized the bed was empty without you. I rode back to Rorikstead. I walked into your room. And what did I find? My wife in bed with my brother." The ice in his voice chilled her to the bone.

She glanced at Farkas, his betrayal cutting her to the core. "You lied to me."

He barely met her eyes. "I'm sorry. I was trying to help you."

"Because of what I said to you."

Farkas nodded quickly.

"I'm sorry, Vilkas. I thought it was a dream. I didn't know it actually happened."

The coldness in his eyes frightened her.

"And do you often dream of my brother?"

"No," she replied instantly. "But, I spent the day thinking about that. Why did I dream of Farkas when I'm in love with you? I decided that it was just a dream, and it didn't mean anything. He was only helping me in the dream with my nightmares. It wasn't a big deal, and I was spending too much time thinking about it."

"Csatari was in and out of sleep when I came into her room. She really doesn't remember, brother," Farkas murmured.

"Farkas had to do what he did. Her screams were blood curdling, and they were about to kick her out for terrifying everyone and waking them up," Aela said as she stepped forward.

Vilkas turned his cold rage towards the red headed huntress. "Oh, he did? And tell me why you couldn't have helped her?"

"I had company," Aela growled back. "If I had known what would happen after she took the dragon's soul, I wouldn't have invited them to my bed."

_Invited them?_

Csatari arched a brow at her friend.

"I like to help people realize their inner animal behind closed doors," she replied with a wink.

"That's our Aela. Always helping people," Farkas commented.

Vilkas turned his hardened gaze on Csatari. "What were the rules?"

"I know he wasn't supposed to be in my room," she snapped. "But, I didn't even know he was in there, and he didn't know about the rule. Plus, if you walked in then you know we were in full armor. NOTHING HAPPENED!"

His cold eyes remained on her. "Now ask me if your words make it hurt any less."

"Vilkas-" She heard how softly she spoke his name; the way it had a desperate, pleading edge. She wondered what her eyes were giving away, if he could tell just how terrified she felt in that moment- first for his safety, and now, for her own. She could feel him pulling away from her, could see the good bye in his eyes.

It was an ending that would end her.

Csatari had learned how to love, but never how to let go.

She tried changing tactics, maybe softening her words would soften his heart.

"So, what are you doing here? I was worried sick about you when I realized where you went." Her words held no accusation, just unbridled fear.

"I want to be free of this curse. Free of this obsession with you."

_I want to be free of you. _

His unspoken words hung in the cold air between them.

"Vilkas, curing your lycanthropy is a big decision to make, and I fear you're making this decision out of anger, not because you're truly ready."

"The wolf in me has been _obsessed_ with you since nearly the beginning. Its obsession with you must have stained my soul. That's the only explanation I have for why I've taken so much abuse from you. No rational man would have stayed this long."

"Vilkas! We've been married two weeks! Did you think it would be a smooth ride? You married the Dragonborn, who has recently come into her powers. I didn't even want to be married yet, along with a whole host of other issues I'm working through. But, here we are. This is going to take time, but we can work on it…together. Just come back home with me. "

He grabbed the head out of his bag and held it near the flame. "I drop this head and I'll be free of this obsession, and you can stop pretending I'm who you want. We'll both be free."

"Vilkas! Don't!"

With spite in his eyes, he dropped the witch head into the blue flame.

"Aela, get ready!" Csatari shouted as she unsheathed her twin blades.

Vilkas' head fell backwards as his body bowed. Red light poured out of his chest, through his armor, as he groaned in pain. His body thrashed back and forth until the beast separated and landed on the ground with a menacing growl.

"Come on, you overgrown pup. I'll cut you down to size!" Csatari shouted.

The wolf lunged at her and at the last minute, she slid across the floor, slashing both front legs. Aela's sword struck the wolf in his midsection, slicing him clean through. As it dropped to the floor, it glanced up at Csatari one last time with an accusation of betrayal in its eyes before it vanished.

Moments passed that she couldn't account for. When she finally glanced up, everyone looked down at her in concern, except Vilkas, whose eyes were cold and unyielding.

"Wh-what just happened?" she asked Aela.

"You just transformed back and forth between human and wolf so fast that it was almost a blur. You were screaming out and the wolf was howling. I've honestly never seen anything like it." Aela answered with a sliver of fear in her eyes.

Csatari ran a hand through her Mohawk, realizing that she was kneeling on the floor.

The accusation of betrayal in the wolf's eyes.

The deep heart wrenching pain in her chest.

The wolf inside her had just lost her mate, and Csatari had been the one to kill it.

Csatari glanced up at Vilkas, and a profound sadness came over her. What was done could not be undone, and she knelt there feeling as if she somehow wasn't the same woman who had entered the tomb.

_What a waste_, she thought as a wave of disgust and aggravation flowed through her.

On shaky legs, she stood up, and Vilkas didn't offer to help her up. He didn't budge an inch.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"I can't feel your heartbeat anymore, but I feel like a man should." His eyes met hers with cold indifference. "Thank you, Harbinger, I will not forget this."

So, she's Harbinger now? Not Csatari or wife? Did he truly feel nothing anymore now with the beast gone? What she did know was that Vilkas had just placed an impenetrable wall between them. She had built enough of those in her life to recognize one when she felt it.

"And you…" She turned her ire on Farkas. "What are you doing here?"

"Vilkas was curing himself. So, he'll go to Sovngarde when he dies. So, I have to cure myself now. " He shrugged.

"So you're curing yourself because he did?" she snapped in irritation.

"I always go where he goes," Farkas replied.

"Of all the stupid reasons, that one takes the cake!" Csatari took a deep breath. She had no fight left in her. "If this is what you want, drop the head into the fire."

Obediently, Farkas took the witch head out of the bag and dropped it into the flames.

Csatari killed the wolf without remorse or regret. She felt nothing. The spirit vanished after it lie dead, and Csatari asked, "You alright?"

"Yeah," he smiled. "All the aches and pains are gone. I feel great."

"Wonderful," Csatari drawled sarcastically. "Now get your stuff together, so we can head back."

"I wish to spend some time communicating with Ysgrammor now that my soul is cleansed," Vilkas said.

"Fine. I'll just sit here and wait for you."

"Leave." His tone was a command.

"You two haven't been purely human in gods know how long. You don't remember your limitations anymore. I'm not letting you two go out by yourself and get killed."

"WE ARE NOT MARRIED ANYMORE! I FEEL NOTHING FOR YOU!" Vilkas' booming voice echoed through the tomb, so that she heard his painful words not once, or twice, but three times. She flinched all three times as his words cut her to the core.

"Fine," she replied in a voice that felt too old for her as she turned to leave. Stopping, she turned back around and met his gaze. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for making you feel like this was the only option you had left. I'm sorry for not being the wife you needed me to be. I'm sorry for every ounce of pain that I caused you. I have been alone for so long that I pushed you away, because I don't know how to accept love from a man, especially love as intense as yours. I did not feel worthy of your love and devotion, a man that even when I hated you, I still admired you. But, I doubt this was ever going to work, because although I love you, I have a lot of growing up to do."

A flicker of something flashed through his eyes, but it was gone too quickly, replaced by cold indifference.

Csatari felt like she was suffocating in this tomb. This was a place for the dead, and she was still alive, and the oxygen seemed too thin in the room as she struggled to suck in a lungful of air.

_I've got to get out of here._

At a full sprint, she raced out of the room, up the stairs, and flew out of the tomb. Now outside in the snow, she placed her hands on her knees and struggled to suck in air.

"Are you alright?"

Csatari glanced to her left as Aela stood there quietly, her scarlet hair blowing in the wind.

She still felt like she was suffocating, like all of the oxygen in Skyrim was being siphoned out.

She clawed at her bare stomach, wanting to rip right out of her skin.

"I need…I need to be out of this ridiculous armor!" She ripped the animal fur off her chest and hips, throwing it to the ground.

"Alright." Aela shed her own armor. Standing there naked, she glanced at Csatari. "Now what?"

"Now we run and don't look back."

….

When the magic wore off, they found themselves somewhere in the woods. Walking out of the forest, with leaves crackling under their feet, they heard men's voices in front of them.

Csatari stopped to listen in closely.

"Yup, killed her guard, then I took that rich bitch's stuff," one man boasted.

"Ha! That'll be good eatin' for a while once the Khajit come by," another said.

"Bandits," Aela growled.

"Follow my lead. We've been attacked, and we're helpless women," Csatari said.

"And then what?"

"When I give you the signal, we kill them all."

….

They walked out of the clearing, and Csatari cried out, "Help us, please!"

The one man stood up with a patch over his eye, pointing a sword in her direction. "Who goes there?"

"Oh, please sir, help us! We've been robbed and wandering for so long! My husband must be worried sick about my friend and I's disappearance!"

"Your husband, huh? Is he a rich man?" The man asked with a glint in his one good eye.

"Yes, he is. He's Thane of Solitude!" she cried out as she walked towards them. "Oh, please help us."

"Yes, we're so scared," Aela drawled out in a bored tone.

She flashed her friend a pointed glare at her acting skills.

"Sure, ladies, come on over. We won't bite."

Csatari ran over to the men, sitting down on a log by the fireplace as Aela sauntered over and sat on the farthest log by herself.

"Well, well…look what we have here," the man purred while he stroked his beard. Csatari swallowed down the bile in her throat. "Such pretty, naked ladies."

Csatari crossed her legs, and held a hand over her breasts as she blushed profusely. "Sir, you're making me blush. I've only ever been with my husband."

"Only your husband? That's a shame. A pretty lady like you needs to live a little."

"What's that on your back?" a bandit asked from behind her.

Csatari knew instantly that he was talking about her whip marks, her skin scarred and deformed.

"I had an abusive father. Then I met my husband and…" Vilkas' face popped into her head- furious Vilkas, Vilkas smiling, Vilkas' intense stare that melted her insides. "he stole my heart," she finished softly.

"Well, we'll get you back to your love safe and sound," the one eyed bandit said.

"I'm sure my husband will pay you handsomely." Csatari glances around the campfire to make the bandits believe that she was talking to all of them. In actuality, she was counting their numbers, memorizing their positions, and the layout of the camp.

"What's her problem?" another bandit asked of Aela, who sat there looking bored.

"Oh, she's terrified. My friend is unmarried and untouched. She's never been around a man naked before," Csatari quickly explained.

"There, there, lady, you don't need to be afraid. We won't bite….hard."

The group of men laughed loudly and Csatari flashed Aela a glare as she began to show her teeth.

"So, what are you nice men doing out here?" Csatari asked in an innocent voice.

The bandit leaned in closer to her, and she could smell his rank breath. "What if I told you that we were bandits?" His eyes made their way down her body in a way that made her skin crawl. "Pillaging and plundering whatever we desire."

She blinked owlishly. "Bandits? That sounds so naughty." Her lips curved up into a smile. "And exciting."

Csatari eyed his sword, and in one swift motion, unsheathed it, standing up.

The bandit's confident gaze faltered as he held his hands up in fright.

"How do I look with a sword?" she asked with her hand on her hip, jutting it out. "Do I look like a dangerous bandit?"

The group exploded in laughter, their relief palpable as they decided they were in no danger from the naïve girl.

The bandit nodded in approval. "You look like a very sexy bandit."

He stood up, walking over to her. Grabbed her by the waist, he dragged her close to his body. "A very delicious little bandit that I'm going to enjoy very much tonight," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, that's too bad," she whispered back as she plunged the sword straight through his midsection. "Because you won't see tonight."

He gasped as Csatari yanked out the blade and fell to the ground.

Aela stood up in an instant as Csatari threw her the sword, while the rest of the camp scrambled in fear and confusion.

"Yor Tul," Csatari shouted, and two bandits screamed as they burned from her flames.

Frantic, they fell backwards into the fire pit. Their screams of pain should have made her feel something, anything. But, all she felt was indifference.

Aela slit the throat of the bandit that had been asking about her with a vicious smile.

Rolling across the camp, Csatari grabbed a shield propped up on another log.

Another bandit lunged at her, and she brought her shield up to catch his mace.

"Flames," she shouted, and pointed her glowing fingertips towards him.

Blasted with her fire and wrath, he screamed as she smashed his face in with her shield. Stumbling to the ground, she used the edge of the shield with all of her force to crush his larynx. Bending down, she snapped his neck…just to make sure.

_Five down. One to go._

Aela was battling with the last one but was at a severe disadvantage with only one sword and no armor. He slashed at her, and she narrowly missed his blaze.

"Hey, stupid!" Csatari shouted, and he turned towards her.

"Gods, you're really dumb," she said as she shook her head in disapproval while Aela plunged the sword through his stomach. He gasped as surprise flitted across his face as he dropped to the floor.

"Next time, don't take so long to get to the killing part,"Aela snarled as she wiped off the blood soaked sword against the log.

"I wouldn't have had to take so long if you acted a little more helpless. You think I enjoyed prancing naked around those men and acting like a helpless tart?" Csatari snapped back.

Aela groaned in disgust. "Why do men think all women are helpless and stupid?"

"Because they're idiots."

Both women glanced at each other before exploding in laughter.

Wiping tears from her eyes, Csatari glanced around the campfire. Peeling armor off her last victim, she threw it on as Aela stripped another.

Now dressed in badly fitting armor, Csatari rummaged through the packs. Finding the pack with the noble's stolen goods, she threw the sack over her shoulder.

"We'll turn this in when we get to Whiterun. Maybe there will be a reward," Csatari explained.

Taking as many weapons as they could find, the two women continued on towards home.

…..

The sun was rising when Csatari and Aela walked through Whiterun's gates. The first guard she spotted, Csatari thrust the bag of stolen goods into his hands.

"Killed the bandits outside the city. Heard them talking about a noble woman that they robbed. Pretty sure this is her stuff."

"Oh, I'll see to it that her things are returned, Harbinger," the guard said with a hard swallow.

Csatari patted his shoulder. "Good man."

When they walked into the marketplace, Csatari said, "Go on without me. I want to check on my uncle."

Aela cocked her head, but didn't ask.

As Csatari turned towards the Bannered Mare, Aela asked, "Are you alright?"

Glancing back at her friend, she admitted, "I don't have words. But, thank you for everything. I couldn't have done this without you."

Aela's lips curled into a grin. "I know."

Csatari sighed. "Just another secret between us."

"I suspect we'll have a lot of those between us as time goes on."

Csatari nodded. "Yes, I suspect we will as well."

Her friend glanced at her thoughtfully. "I don't believe Vilkas when he said that he feels nothing for you now, because the man in him was in love with you. He'll come around. This is the way he always is- first the ice, then the fire."

She nodded, too emotional to say anything. Afraid she might just break down in the middle of the market, she made her way up the steps of the inn.

Opening her uncle's door, Csatari found Pearl and Jack in bed together wearing their underclothes. Quietly, she closed the door, and vowed to come back later when they were awake. They'd also be having a conversation about what that sleeping arrangement meant.

Making her way up the stairs of Jorrvaskr, Csatari walked into the mead hall to find everyone breaking fast. She sighed in relief at seeing Farkas and Vilkas sitting in their usual seats, looking unharmed.

Csatari sat down in her usual seat at the head of the table. Farkas glanced at her armor, but didn't make a comment.

"How are you feeling?" Csatari asked after turning her attention towards Vilkas.

"Fine, Harbinger. Thank you for asking."

_Again with calling me Harbinger._

"Is there any business that I need to take care of?" she asked, hoping to draw out conversation with him.

"Why don't you eat your breakfast and spare the attempts at pointless conversation?" he replied.

The room grew deadly silent, and when she glanced up, everyone was staring in shock.

"Very well," she replied lowly.

Csatari didn't have an appetite, so she glanced at Farkas to her left. "How's your morning going?"

Farkas purposely stared down at the table, refusing to look at her or speak.

_So this is how it's going to be._

Csatari pushed out her chair and stood up, making her way downstairs. Once inside her room, she took out the largest bag of coin and walked back upstairs.

She reached the doors of Jorrvaskr, and with her hand on the door, heard, "Where are you going?"

She whipped around to find Vilkas walking towards her, his eyes demanding an answer from her.

She held his gaze as she answered, "To purchase a home."

His eyes widened momentarily before narrowing. "I demand to know where you'll be living. You are the Harbinger, so we must know how to reach you."

"You don't need to demand , Vilkas. I'll tell you anything as long as you ask nicely," she replied in a tired voice. After all this time, he still didn't understand.

He made a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. "Funny. When we were married, you would never tell me anything. Now suddenly you're an open book?"

"You and I always had the physical part down. But, we were never open with each other. We always tried hiding the truth from each other, too afraid that we'd make ourselves vulnerable by giving something away. I told you that I was trying to be a better wife and work on my less than desirable traits. I meant that."

"Why bother now? We're not married anymore."

"Because I'm hoping you and I can have some type of relationship. I need you if I'm ever going to become the warrior that I need to become. Too many lives depend on me, and you are Master at Arm of the Companions."

He regarded her carefully before nodding. "I'll train you."

"Thank you. And to answer your original question, I'm purchasing a house here in Whiterun. Breakfast made it clear to me that this place is no longer my home. You were here first, so I'll leave."

Feeling there was nothing left to say, Csatari opened the door.

"Let me come with you. You'll need me." She glanced over her shoulder as he stood there proudly. "You will need to sign the property title, and you should have someone read over it first. I will assist you in that."

"Why would you help me?" she asked.

"Because you are willing to leave and give me back my home. You're being considerate, so I can afford to do the same. It won't take much time out of my day."

Csatari choked back tears. "In that case, thank you."

The two walked nearly side by side, but neither spoke. Entering Dragonsreach, she found Avenicci sputtering about.

"I want to buy a house," she said as she slammed the bag of coin down on the table.

He smirked. "When we offered you to buy the home, you said that you'd never leave Jorrvaskr unless you were dead."

She glanced sideways to see Vilkas' shocked reaction, then bared some of her teeth at the talkative steward. "Things change. Are you going to sell me the house or not?"

"Well, that house is still for sale."

"Great. Make it happen."

"Let me go get the paperwork," he said as he picked up the bag of septims, then nearly fell over from its weight.

"Need help with that?" she smirked.

"I've got it," he panted out as his arms shook from the weight of the bag.

Csatari glanced around the room, looking at anything but Vilkas to avoid the awkwardness between them as Avenici struggled up the stairs.

Balgruuf came down the steps a moment later with his hands up in the air. "Thane, I hear you're finally buying that house!"

"Yes, I am."

"So, the two newlyweds need their own space, huh?" He asked with a wink.

She felt Vilkas stiffen next to her. "Actually, I'm buying it for my family. My uncle and sister will be living there, and I want them close to me."

"That's wonderful! I didn't know you had family, Dragonborn."

"Neither did I," Vilkas muttered under his breath.

"It's a…recent development," Csatari said quickly.

"Here's the paperwork!" Avenici waved as he walked down the steps.

Handing her the paperwork, she said, "Thank you. I want to go over the paperwork with my husband. I'll hand it back signed once we've gone over everything."

"Sure," Avenici said as he stood there.

"I don't need a damn babysitter!" she growled.

"Avenici!" Balgruf laughed out. "Leave them be. The Dragonborn will hand it back when she's ready."

"I was just trying to do my duty," he huffed under his breath as he walked away.

"Mind telling me who this family is that you'll be living with?" Vilkas whispered with an undercurrent of hostility.

"Do you care?" she asked honestly.

"If strangers are going to be living in my city, I want to know about it!"

Csatari rolled her eyes dramatically. "You need to work on your lies."

"Are you going to answer me?" The vein in his forehead was bulging.

"Jack and I talked things out. He wants to stay around to help me. I also found out yesterday that Pearl is alive."

"Pearl, your childhood friend?"

Csatari nodded. "That one."

"How is she alive?"

"It's a long story. In short, my uncle saved her. Now let's get to that paperwork."

…..

After Vilkas read the first paragraph, he asked, "Do you understand everything I've read so far?"

She hated the way he looked at her with such indifference. He showed more passion when he spoke to clients about taking on jobs for the Companions. She needed to see something, any type of reaction from him, or she would die in this wasteland of apathy.

"Is this what it was like when you read me our marriage certificate?" She asked.

His jaw ticked. "No."

Encouraged by his response, she pressed on, "How was it different?"

Hot fury flashed through his eyes. "You wore a yellow dress. And I held hope for us then." Her heart faltered at his words. "The rest of this says that your taxes will be determined yearly by the Jarl, and you're expected to pay at the end of the year. I'll sign here for you." He scrawled something across the page without even glancing at her or waiting for her approval. When he was done, he thrust the papers into her hand with force. "Congratulations. You own a home."

"Thanks."

She owned a home now; one that her husband would never be living in with her. It was too bittersweet to bear.

She handed the paperwork back to Avenici and he handed her the key and a book.

"That's the decorating guide," he explained.

"Great," she replied as she walked out.

Standing at the bottom steps of Jorrvaskr, Vilkas crossed his arms as she ran a hand through her hair while staring at the ground.

"I'll be by later to pick up my things," she said as she turned to leave.

"Did you mean what you said?" Csatari glanced back at Vilkas, waiting for him to continue. "What you said at Ysgrammor's Tomb about me not being the problem, but you not knowing how to be loved?"

"I meant every word," she answered honestly.

"Good. Glad to know I wasn't the problem in our marriage."

She stood frozen in place, too stunned to speak.

"I never said that I was the only one at fault. I simply acknowledged my own short comings in our marriage." The acid poured into every syllable of her words as she shot him her nastiest glare. "You wanted to marry me so badly, and yet you gave up after two weeks! Guess you didn't love me that much."

The ice in his eyes frightened her, though she refused to show it. "Our marriage was over the minute you walked into our room in Markarth. I just didn't realize it then."

Csatari closed the space between them, their noses touching as she growled. "Wrong again. This marriage isn't over; it's just beginning. You don't get to quit, and neither do I."

She gave him a pointed look to get her point across. The menacing glare he shot back heated her core. _Good. He's mad_. _Let him keep feeling that heat._

Snarling, she turned and walked away.

….

Walking into Jack and Pearl's room, she ripped the sheets off their bed. "Wake up, sleepy heads!"

Pearl bolted upright, screaming, while Jack pulled a dagger out from underneath his pillow.

"Easy there, uncle. No need to kill Tamriel's savior," she said with a teasing smile.

He blinked. "Everything alright, kid?"

Csatari sat down on the chair in the corner of the room, throwing her legs up on the table. "I'm fine. I just thought you two would be more comfortable sleeping in our new home is all."

"Our new home?" Pearl squealed.

"Yup. Just bought it." She dragged her legs off the table and leaned over in the chair. "Wanna go check it out?"

Pearl jumped out of bed, running over to her. "We have a home?!"

"Told ya I just needed some time to figure things out," Csatari replied with a wide grin.

"How's Vilkas?" Jack asked while eyeing her cautiously.

Csatari stiffened hearing her husband's name. "He's fine. We'll talk about it later."

He gave her a sympathetic look. "Didn't go well then."

She ran her hand through her hair. "Understatement of the year."

Pearl glanced back and forth between Csatari and Jack.

"What's wrong with your husband?" she asked.

"What's wrong with him? What isn't wrong with him is the better question! He never thinks he's wrong. He's a total hypocrite, and _the_ most stubborn man alive! He's gorgeous and he knows it. One day he's a blizzard, next day he's a raging fire, then the next day he's back to being a blizzard. My head hurts from his moodiness! He's utterly impossible!" Csatari shouted while throwing her hands up in the air.

"So, you think he's gorgeous, huh?" Pearl asked with a glint of excitement in her eyes.

"Out of everything I said, that's what you picked up on?" Csatari asked with a brow raised.

"I picked that out, because it's the only compliment you gave him. The rest sounds like it's born out of frustration. I'm thinking you two had a fight." Pearl replied.

"Pearl, we usually have about three fights before breakfast every day. I married him smashed out of my gourd and didn't realize what happened until I sobered up from my drunken binge five days later. Riding a dragon would be tamer than our relationship."

Her mouth formed an 'O' at Csatari's confession. Licking her lips in thought, she said, "It sounds like you two have a lot of passion, but lack in communication. And...I'm not trying to sound like a negative Nancy, but maybe….just maybe you should consider drinking a little less. Instead of numbing your feelings, try to find another way to express your emotions."

"UGGH. I'm never touching the stuff again! All it does is get me in trouble! And I'll express my emotions by shoving my foot up a dragon's ass!"

"Good idea, kid, unless the dragon farts fire. Then you're in trouble," Jack said with a grin.

Csatari laughed loudly as Pearl rolled her eyes. "You two are so alike it's scary sometimes."

"So….want to check out the house?"

Pearl screamed excitedly before dashing out the door.

Jack sighed. "She always runs before looking."

Csatari smiled. "How long do you think it'll take before she realizes she's only wearing her under clothes?"

"Five semptims says she makes it all the way to the inn door," Jack said.

"Five says she only makes it to the bottom of the stairs."

A moment later, Pearl rushed back into the room, blushing, as she grabbed her dress off the floor. "I made it all the way down the stairs before I realized I wasn't wearing my clothes! By the gods, I'm silly sometimes."

"Damn, kid, you're good," Jack said as he tossed Csatari a small coin bag.

Csatari grinned as she caught it. "I know."

…  
>Standing outside the house, Csatari handed Pearl the key. "Want to do the honors?"<p>

"I love the location," she beamed. "Right by the gates. Good view of everything going on. Near the market, but not too close. Just perfect."

Csatari smiled. "Glad you approve. Now let's go inside."

Pearl turned the key and pushed open the door.

"Welcome home, Pearl," Csatari whispered.

"Oh, this is perfect!" she exclaimed while clasping her hands as she walked into the house. "Just perfect. With a few touches, this place will feel like a home."

Csatari placed her hands on Pearl's shoulders. "No one can take this from us. No one can kick us out, or can tell us that we don't belong here. We can grow roots here, and finally have a place to call our own."

Pearl sniffled as tears slid down our cheeks. "I've been waiting so long that I was starting to lose hope."

Csatari wiped away her tears as she smiled. "Your hair is long now and shiny. You have curves now. You must be eating good."

Pearl nodded. "Jack's taken good care of me."

Csatari grabbed her friend, holding her close. "I keep thinking this is a dream like all the others I've had of you, and I'm going to wake up soon."

"This is real, Csatari. It's really real."

"I should have forced you to come with me. I have lived with that regret every day since. But, I couldn't guarantee that I could keep us fed. I am so so sorry," Csatari whispered.

"I shouldn't have been so stubborn and went with you. I was trying to prove that you didn't need to keep taking care of me, that I could take care of myself. I wanted you to be proud of me. We were just kids, Csatari, we didn't know anything about the world. Let that pain and regret go. Even if I had died, you wouldn't have been responsible."

"Ever since I thought you died, I've died a little inside every day."

Pearl frowned, cupping her friend's cheek in her hands. "You never could let go."

Csatari held her head in shame. "I have you back, and now I have Jack. But, I've lost _him_, Pearl."

"Who? Vilkas?"

Through her tears, she nodded. "He wants nothing to do with me. Says I'm not his wife anymore. I've screwed it all up so badly that it's beyond repair. I have no one to blame, but myself."

Jack placed his hand on Csatari's shoulder. "He's full of shit." Csatari stopped crying and glanced up at him in confusion. "Once you fall in love with a Braveheart woman, you don't fall out of love with them. You can't."

Csatari cocked her head to the side in confusion. "What's a Braveheart woman?"

"Your mother's name was Helga Braveheart. Your father, my brother's name, was Duke. Our father skipped out on us before we were even born. Our mother, your grandmother, raised us, determined to be our mother_ and_ father. When you were born, Duke agreed with your mother that you should have her last name. Your real name is Csatari Braveheart."

Csatari stopped breathing, too stunned for words. "I…I have a last name." Grabbing Pearl's shoulders, she shouted, "I have a last name!"

Pear nodded excitedly. "And it's a really pretty one, too."

"He's not over you, so don't you dare buy his BS for one second. If you want things good between you two again, then there's only one thing you've got to do….the one thing you're really good at."

Csatari scrunched her nose in confusion. "Slaying dragons?"

Jack smiled as he nodded. "You've got to slay the dragon."

Csatari shook her head in doubt. "When I'm in battle, it's easy. I know exactly what to do. But, love…I don't know what to do with that."

Jack laughed, but it held no humor, only pain. "Love is the most vicious, messiest battlefield that you will ever fight on."

War and battlefields Csatari understood. The only thought that plagued her was that one side always died for there to be a victor.

"Don't be absurd, Jack. Love isn't like war," Pearl scolded him. "It's like a hunting game."

"And who's the prey in this scenario?" Csatari asked.

"You, of course. Listen, I may not be able to fight by your side when you take down gods only know what out there, but this…this I can help you with."

"I'll give anything a try," Csatari sighed. "I'm desperate."

"Come sit down by the fireplace. Let me have a proper look at you. Do we have any candles yet?"

Csatari noticed an old log in the fire pit. "Flame."

A moment later, the house was warming up with a roaring fire.

"Neat trick, kid."

Pearl stared in shock. "I'm sorry. That'll take some time getting used to. I didn't know you could do that."

"Pearl, you know I would never hurt you," Csatari said in a soft voice, staring at her over the fire. If it frightens you, I won't do it again."

She smiled back. "I know you'd never hurt me. I'm sorry, it's been difficult for me getting used to how much you've changed."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"You always wanted power against Grelod. More than anyone else at the orphanage. Now you're more powerful than I think even your wildest dreams back then. I'm scared what being Dragonborn means for you." She smiled. "I'm being silly, aren't I?"

"Just know this. I would never hurt you, but I will destroy anyone who tries to hurt my family mercilessly."

Pearl walked back over to Csatari, smiling sadly. "That's what worries me. I'm afraid one day you won't come back."

"Well that day is not today. Let's not worry about things like that. Why don't you look at the decorating guide for the house with Jack and see what you want? I'll buy whatever you like. You can read, right, Jack?"

"I can read too," Pearl said with pride. "Jack taught me."

Jealousy ran through Csatari that Jack had never taught her how to read. She stomped the unpleasant feeling down instantly, though.

"Good. Then check out the catalogue," she said as she tossed her friend the book. "Right now, I need to get some sleep."

"You get some shut eye; I'll have this place cleaned up and food made when you wake up," Pearl chimed.

Csatari held her thumb up. "Sounds good."

She trudged up the stairs and fell down into the first bed she found. Was she hallucinating this all?

The stairs creaked as someone walked up them.

"Hey, kid."

Csatari rolled her body over to look up at her uncle.

"I got you another present, kid."

He pulled something out of his jacket and handed it to her.

Csatari stared at the stuffed doll dumbfounded.

"I know it's long overdue, but better late than never."

Carefully, she took it from him and looked it over. "We never had toys in the orphanage. I've never had a doll."

"Pearl told me."

She met his gaze quickly before becoming overwhelmed with emotion and glancing away. "Thank you."

"See ya when you wake up, kid. If Vilkas comes by, I'll shove my boot up his ass."

Csatari smiled. "Be careful. He definitely farts fire."

She heard him laugh as he walked down the stairs.

Clutching the doll to her chest, she took out her dagger and stuck it under her new pillow before falling asleep.


	32. Chapter 32

WARNING! This chapter is DEFINITELY NSFW! Dub-Con scene as well as MFM scene.

Please see the note at the end of this chapter as well.

After all the time  
>After you<br>Had you seen me with someone new  
>Hanging so high for your return<br>But the stillness is a burn

Had I seen it in your eyes  
>There'd have been no try after try<br>Your leaving had no goodbye  
>Had I just seen one in your eyes<p>

I can't give it up  
>To someone elses touch<br>Because I care too much

Could you tell  
>I was left lost and lonely<br>Could you tell  
>Things ain't worked out my way<p>

Wish the best for you  
>Wish the best for me<br>Wished for infinity  
>If that ain't me<p>

~The XX- Infinity

When Csatari woke up, she glanced around the room as she blinked sleep away. Bare wooden walls greeted her and tables with no personal items. It reminded her of an inn room. _Where am I?_ Panic set in, and she bolted upright.

"Owwww!" she shouted as she slammed her head against the low baring wall.

Rubbing her throbbing head, she hopped around as she screamed a string of curse words. _That really hurt!_

Something moved across the floor, and she glanced down to find that she had accidentally kicked the fallen doll across the floor.

Picking it up, the last three days played out in her mind.

"I have a home. I have a surname. I have family," she whispered to herself in reminder. "But, not Vilkas." The last thought tore another rip into her soul. _But, I'm not giving up_, she reminded herself and hope bloomed in her heart again.

After placing the doll beneath the pillow alongside her dagger, she yanked open the door.

"Pearl? Jack?" she called out at the top of the stairs.

When no one responded, she ran down the stairs two at a time.

"Pearl, Jack?" she called out again to no reply.

Panic rose in her chest again. Did they leave her? She never asked if they wanted to live in this house with her. She just surprised them with it and expected them to go along with her plan. How stupid she was!

_Take a deep breath. Look around for clues._

Csatari glanced around the place and was shocked to see how different it appeared. Bookshelves lined the kitchen area, along with weapon racks. Foods and herbs hung above the fire pit, and a delicious smelling stew bubbled in the pot. Walking over to the cabinet, she picked up a blue plate from a stack.

"We have plates now," she said in surprise.

Opening the double doors to the back room, she stared in shock at an alchemy table lined with more empty book shelves.

"Awesome," she whispered as she closed the door.

"Hey! You're awake!"

Csatari whipped around to find Pearl walking into the house, followed by Jack.

She sighed deeply in relief and smiled.

"You alright, kid?" Jack asked as he closed the front door behind him.

"Yeah, I woke up and couldn't find anyone, so I..." Csatari glanced down at the floor in shame.

"You thought we left you," he finished for her.

She nodded while still staring at the floor. "But, then I saw this stuff in the house, so I hoped that meant you hadn't run." Csatari glanced up at the two. "I'm sorry."

Pearl ran over to her, throwing her small arms around Csatari's neck and squeezing with all of her might. "You are so silly! I wouldn't leave you! I'll never leave you again!"

Csatari hugged her back tightly as she breathed in the smell of Pearl's hair. She was real. She was really real and here with her and this was all really happening. She wondered when this would start feeling more like reality than a dream.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me," Csatari whispered into her friend's ear.

Pulling back, Pearl cupped Csatari's face in her small hands. "There is no reason to apologize. I understand completely." Pearl offered a sad smile and Csatari nodded.

Orphans. Abandonment issues. The two went hand in hand.

"So, who's ready for supper?" Pearl asked in that optimistic tone of hers. Without waiting for an answer, she tasted the stew in the pot. "It's almost done. But, I think it needs a little more salt."

"Hey. How did you get this all done while I was sleeping?" Csatari asked as she leaned against the empty bookshelf.

"Oh, I had hoped to get more done, but you didn't sleep very long." Pearl glanced up from ladling the stew with a concerned look in her eyes. "Are you feeling alright? You only slept about four hours."

Csatari quickly glanced at Jack who was sitting down at the table, frowning. Shit. She needed to think of a lie fast for her strange werewolf behavior.

"When my Dragonborn soul awoke, I stopped needing much sleep. I'm completely rested on three hours," Csatari lied.

Pearl's eyes widened. "Really? Well, that must be terribly convenient. What do you do with all of those extra hours now?"

"Slay dragons, train, get pummeled by giants, train, take on dens of blood thirsty vampires, train, rescue kidnapped people from fortresses full of elves, train."

Pearl held her hand up in protest. "Next time I ask a question like that, remind me that I don't want to hear the answer."

"Fair enough."

Pearl tossed a pinch of salt into the pot. "Anyways, Vilkas came by with all of your stuff." She smiled sheepishly as she stirred their dinner. "I hope you don't mind, but I took one of the coin bags with me to Dragonsreach and purchased the decorations for the house."

"Vilkas came by?" The words shot out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "And no, I don't care that you took the money to fix up the place. I told you I'd pay for it."

"Yes, Vilkas came by, and you failed to mention just how handsome he was!" Pearl fanned her face as she laughed. "Talk about landing yourself a man! But, he does have quite a temper, he's very distrustful, and is he always so...intense? I think you need to give him more hugs, Csatari. That man needs lots of love."

"What did he say?" she asked in surprise of Pearl's assessment of her husband.

"Hey said, 'My name is Vilkas. I'm Csatari's asshole husband who's trying to quit on her after two weeks because I'm a milk drinker," Jack replied from the corner of the room, sitting at their table.

She frowned at him in disapproval.

"He introduced himself as Vilkas and asked if I was Pearl. I said yes, and he asked if you were here. I told him yes, but that you were sleeping. He said that he wanted to see for himself. Then he pushed himself inside. Honestly, I barely stepped out of the way before he nearly ran me over. "

Csatari's mouth dropped in shock. "I told you he was impossible! He wasn't being unusually rude. That's just Vilkas. What did he do then?"

"Well, he dropped all the bags and then charged up the stairs. When he opened the door, he stood still, watching you for a while with this strange expression on his face. It was as if he felt too much that all of the emotions couldn't be seen in his eyes. After a while, he came back down, and then..." Pearl trailed off as she shot Csatari a nervous glance.

"I told him how much of an asshole I thought he was," Jack finished.

Csatari glanced at her uncle in shock.

"I swear, no weapons were drawn," Pearl added quickly. "I told them they could only fight with words, not swords."

Csatari groaned as she ran a hand through her hair. "Running him off isn't helping me win him back, Jack."

"I'm not sure you should be trying to win him back. He told me how you broke his fucking 'rules'. He actually made rules for you to follow?" Csatari nodded sheepishly. "I told him marriage wasn't a prison sentence; it was a gift to spend each day with the one you loved and share their life with them. I told him that if he was so insecure about you being around Farkas, then he shouldn't have married you with doubt in his heart. Instead he tried to deny you his brother's friendship. I let him know how much of an asshole he was for that, because I've watched you over the years, and making friends wasn't something you did often or easily. I also told him that setting rules for you guaranteed that you'd break them." Jack shrugged. "It's a Braveheart thing. You're mother was the same exact way."

"He didn't like that at all," Pearl added while shaking her head. "I swear he looked like he was going to explode."

"So, how did it end?" Csatari asked, wondering how she had slept through all of this. Her werewolf blood normally caused her to sleep lightly.

"He said the bags were your stuff from Jorrvaskr. He then threatened that if we hurt you he'd hunt us down and tear us from limb to limb. Then he left."

Csatari blinked in shock.

"Told ya he was full of shit about being over you," Jack said as he picked up an apple off the table and bit into it.

"I'm with Jack on this one. That's a pretty serious threat to make concerning someone you don't care about."

Should she hope they were right about this, or should she decide that they were reading too much into his comments in fear of being let down? Nope, too late. Love had decided for her as hope rose in her chest making her feel like she could fly.

"Where's the stuff?" she asked.

"I put it in the Master bedroom. We decided that's yours," Pearl said.

Pearl hadn't finished speaking before Csatari bolted up the stairs two at a time. She didn't think the room she had slept in was the main bedroom, so she ran down the hall and opened a set of double doors. Sacks stood up, propped up against the edge of the of the bed. Csatari opened each one as she searched for one thing in particular.

When she reached the bottom of the last sack, she groaned in aggravation. "What did he do with it?"

A fleeting thought ran through her mind that he destroyed it out of spite, and the thought terrified her.

"Where are you going?" Pearl asked as Csatari barreled down the stairs towards the door.

"He didn't pack everything. I'm missing something important," she answered before running out the door.

…...

She told herself that she wouldn't explode. She told herself that she would ask him nicely. She would be patient. She would count to ten in her head to calm down, and she definitely wouldn't punch him.

She repeated these words in her head as she ran through Whiterun and up the steps of Jorrvaskr.

Walking inside, she found him easily, sitting down on a bench talking to Vignar.

"I need to talk to you," she said, interrupting their conversation. They both glanced up at her in annoyance."Excuse me, but I need to talk to you _now_."

Vilkas stared up at her with cold eyes. "We have nothing to discuss."

She clenched her fists tightly at her side. "I am asking very politely. Meet me halfway...please."

"Hey, Harbinger, heard ya just bought a place, and you're living with family there! So, when are we coming over to celebrate and meet them?" Njada shouted from across the room.

Csatari glanced back at her friend. "I don't know. We'll do something soon, though."

"I didn't even know you had family."

"It's all very new, and...I have a surname too," Csatari replied with a wide smile.

"She doesn't have family," Vilkas said as he stood up. "A guy shows up, calling himself her uncle, and our naive Harbinger believes him. He feeds her lines about a last name, and she eats it up. He has her wrapped around his finger, and now she's bought him a house to live in, because she's that gullible. She'd rather live with a pretender and a prostitute than us."

Csatari whimpered in pain as his words ripped her in two.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered as she met his cold glare. "Haven't you hurt me enough already?"

With tears in her eyes, Csatari turned and bolted out the door. She hit the top step before she heard, "Running back to your pretend family, Harbinger?"

She froze in place in shock of his words. The fire lit inside her, thawing out her paralysis, so she turned and faced her tormentor.

"Any reason that you're particularly nasty this afternoon, Vilkas?"

"Just greeting my ex-wife in the same manner she always greeted me," he said with a vicious smile.

Csatari sighed. _Fighting back won't fix this. Don't fall for his trap, or you'll lose him._

"I told you that I wanted us to work on being civil with each other, so that you can train me. How are we going to do that if you keep trying to hurt me? Don't you get it? You've already hurt me in the worst way possible!"

"And how have I done that?" he asked as he stalked towards her. Pure fury rolled off his frame in waves with a lethal look in his eyes. _Don't fight back, Csatari. Explain._

"You took your love away, Vilkas. I believed in nothing when I came here- not in gods, nor love, nor myself. But, you made me believe in us and our future. When you said that we were over, you broke me. I have to live with that pain and regret every day now for the rest of my life- that the man I love, doesn't love me back and doesn't want me. That isn't enough revenge for you?" He stopped advancing towards her as his face contorted in pain at her words. _Why is he in pain? What am I not seeing?_

He stood there, staring at her without saying a word and when Csatari could no longer bear the silence, she asked,"I told you that I would come by and pick my things up later, so why did you bring them to the house?"

"Because I wanted those things out of Jorrvaskr, out of Kodlak's room," he spat through gritted teeth and clenched fists.

"You didn't pack my mirror, though," she replied.

The heat that flashed through his eyes briefly turned back to ice. "I didn't see a reason for you to want it. It was my wedding gift to you, but seeing how we aren't married anymore..."

"It was a gift you gave me. I want it," she replied in a heartbeat.

"There's no reason to keep it," he snapped.

"Isn't that my decision to make? I'm not taking back the bow I made for you."

"You can have it; I don't want it."

Her heart sunk at his words. "If you don't want it, then sell it. I don't want it back; it was a gift I made for you that came from the heart. The ingots I used were ones I found during my first job here at the Companions when I cleared out the Falmer."

His eyes lit up with surprise."I didn't know that," he replied softly.

Her head cocked to the side in confusion at his sudden change in demeanor.

"Does that change things?" she asked.

He glanced sideways, refusing to meet her gaze. "If you want the mirror back, train with me today. If you make it to nightfall without quitting, I'll give it to you." Slowly, his head turned to meet her gaze.

She replied by walking past him to the courtyard and standing quietly as he walked back, her nerves fraying from the situation. Csatari had never trained with Vilkas; she had no idea what was about to happen, and she despised the unknown.

Vilkas stood in front of her, eyeing her up, and Csatari made sure to keep her chin raised from his scrutinizing gaze. He suddenly walked back into Jorrvaskr, and Csatari stood there feeling off-balance. What just happened? Did he expect her to stand here until nightfall without moving? Was this a trick?

Her questions were answered moments later, when Vilkas walked back out with Ria, Njada, and Athis.

"Pick up wooden swords," he instructed them all.

Still confused, Csatari decided her best bet was to stay silent and do what he said.

Unsheathing her sword, she placed it down on the table and picked up a wooden one.

Moving back to the center of the courtyard, she stood in confusion as the other three picked up wooden swords.

As soon as all three had wooden swords, Vilkas shouted, "Attack Csatari!"

Confusion and panic set in as all three ran towards her.

"No magic, Dragonborn, and no shouts. They are crutches holding you back from your true potential. You will fight like a warrior," he instructed.

Csatari blocked Ria's hit easily with her shield and blocked Njada's blade with her own, but Athis, nailed her in the ribs.

She hissed as she pivoted to block his next attack, but that only made her blind to Ria's next hit as the three circled around her.

_So he wants them to beat the crap out of me and humiliate me. If this is what it takes to get back that mirror, so be it._

She tried to keep up, but all three were able to land hits on her. Csatari couldn't focus on trying to hit them; she had to stay on the defensive and concentrate on blocking.

When Ria hit her for a third time, Vilkas shouted, "Stop!"

All four stopped and glanced at him.

"Take your armor off," he demanded.

"Are you crazy?" she asked.

"You don't fear wooden swords hitting your metal armor," he replied. "Take it off."  
>"They're going to kick my ass if I take it off!"she exclaimed.<p>

The cold in his gaze made her uneasy. "Do not talk back again. I give you a command; you follow it. No questions asked unless you need the instructions clarified."

She tossed him a sultry smile. "If you wanted me naked, Vilkas, all you had to do was ask."

The murderous look in his eyes left no question that her joke wasn't appreciated. _Okay. Back to training it is._

Csatari sucked in a deep breath as she took off her armor and placed it on the bench.

Walking back to the center of the courtyard, she awaited his next instruction with a sense of foreboding.

Vilkas took a cloth napkin off of the table and she stared quizzically as he walked back. _What's he doing with that?_

Standing behind her, he blindfolded her. Losing her sight frightened her, and she began to panic.

"W-what is this supposed to teach?" she asked.

"When you lose one sense, the others are heightened. A warrior must always be resourceful." He leaned in, whispering, "Tap into your beast blood. If you focus, you can hear the sound of their swords cutting through the air. You can find out where they are by focusing on their hearts beating. If you truly tap into the power within you, you can defeat all three easily. You have killer instincts in battle and reflexes unlike any I've ever seen before."

The sound of Vilkas' voice in her ear, the way his hair brushed against her cheek, the smell of him so close to her was scrambling her brain and causing her pulse to race. She needed to focus? Not likely with him standing so close to her. His words finally sunk into her mind. Wait a minute! Did he give her a compliment? Oh, that traitorous hope blossomed again. It was doing a lot of that lately...ever since she learned of her uncle. Now it felt like an unstoppable force that would wreak havoc on her emotions whenever it liked.

Vilkas stepped away from her, and she listened to his retreating steps.

She took a deep breath and tried to focus. With her extra sensitive hearing, she heard too much normally and it became very distracting like a bee constantly buzzing near her ear. It took her a while to learn how to block it all out, but now Vilkas wanted her to take it all back in.

_You can do this._

Csatari stood there quietly, listening. She listened to the trees rustling. She listened to Eorland hammering metal. She listened to someone scraping their foot against the ground. _Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

She listened to their hearts.

Ria's heart always raced, Njada's heart was steady, and Athis' heart was beating faster than usual.

Vilkas' heart beat irregularly. It took her a few moments to realize, but it was definitely irregular. It didn't follow a pattern, didn't make it's own rhythmic music. She wondered if it had always been like that, or if it happened after removing the beast spirit.

Vilkas cleared his throat, and that's when Ria's heart raced in her chest.

_He gave them the signal to attack._

Whipping around, she smashed Ria in the chest. Spinning around as she heard Athis' growl, she met his blade. _Wow. Blades do make noise cutting through the air._

She met Njada's blade with her shield. Csatari realized that she was about to strike when she shifted her weight to her back leg.

Her skin tingled on her neck, and she could sense Ria's determination and anger at being bested.

Csatari slid to the left, and effectively out of the circle they were trapping her in. She needed her back against a wall.

Where's the damn wall?

Wait. What was she thinking? That was the worst strategic move- that would leave her with limited mobility.

_You can do this, Csatari. Figure out a solution._

She listened to their footsteps closing in on her.

_Oh, fuck this. _

_A_nger coursed through her as her muscles tensed in anticipation for what was coming.

_Feet don't fail me now._

"You three will be crying for your mommies when I'm done with you!"

_Time to turn this battle around and put them on the defensive._

A loud battle cry tore from her lungs as she ran towards them.

Csatari twirled and slashed, never staying in one spot long enough for the three to circle her. She spanked Ria on the behind with her blade, tripped Athis, and put Njada on the defensive.

She was huffing and puffing while Csatari felt great. She could go another twenty rounds. Their blades and shields clashed, and Csatari finally bested her when she slammed her sword into Njada's back foot. As Njada shouted and started to hop, Csatari held her sword and shield up in victory.

"Csatari! By the Nine! What are you doing?"

_Pearl._

She yanked the blindfold off and took a step towards her.

"Where's your armor?" Pearl asked.

As Csatari took another step, she heard Athis say behind her, "Oh, no you don't! We're not done with you!" Closing the gap between herself and Pearl with another step, someone grabbed her from behind.

She heard the tearing sound and in the next moment, felt the wind caressing her back. Grabbing the front of her shirt, to prevent it from falling, her eyes locked on Pearl's shocked expression. She turned to see Athis' surprise as he held the back of her tunic in his hand.

Vilkas was faster than lightning, charging across the courtyard, and in one swift movement, Athis was flying across the courtyard and into the stone wall.

"Vilkas, don't!" Csatari shouted.

His eyes were wild as adrenaline pumped through his veins and his nostrils flared.

Csatari ran to him as Njada and Ria stood there, too stunned to move.

"Vilkas, he's our friend. He would never hurt me intentionally. It was an accident."

Athis nodded his head, his eyes wide, cowering at the homicidal look on Vilkas' face. "It was an accident. I was just playing around. I never meant to hurt the Harbinger."

Csatari caressed Vilkas' cheek in hopes of calming him down.

He refused to look at her as he removed her hand from his face. His grip was gentle and his movements slow.

_Please don't touch me. _

She heard his request loud and clear.

"Get inside before I lose my temper," Vilkas growled.

Athis scurried away and ran into Jorrvaskr.

Vilkas glanced back at a still paralyzed Ria and Njada. "Training is over. You're dismissed."

The two scrambled to beat each other back into the mead hall.

"I'm so sorry," Pearl apologized with tears in her eyes.

"It's not your fault. You've done nothing wrong. It's alright. Everything's alright," Csatari quickly reassured her.

Pearl ran over and gave her a tight squeeze. _I'm so sorry. Please forgive me._

_Silly girl, there's nothing to forgive. _Csatari squeezed her back with equal pressure.

Vilkas stood there, looking as beautiful and deadly as usual, staring up at the sky.

Csatari sat down on the bench to give Vilkas the space he wanted.

Leaning over, she ran her hand through her hair. This was bad. Very bad. Since the first time she had attempted to touch Vilkas, he had never refused her. He often wasn't emotionally open, but he always wanted her physical affection. And now? Now he didn't even want that.

She didn't know how to fix this. Were they beyond repair?

_It's not over. He didn't take your hand off his face with force. That must mean something. He also flipped out on Athis for nothing. That must mean something. It must!_

She rubbed the back of her neck as the war raged on inside her mind.

"Oh, Csatari..." She heard the quiver in Pearl's voice and froze when she felt her delicate hands touch her back.

"Don't look, Pearl." Csatari sat up quickly, and faced towards Pearl, so that she couldn't look at her back.

Scrambling for her armor, she slapped her chest piece on quickly.

_Out of sight. Out of mind._

Pearl's lips trembled as tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I'm okay. Everything's okay," she tried to reassure her friend as her shaking hands attempted to buckle the side straps.

"Oh, Csatari..." Pearl's voice broke with every syllable. "It's not okay, and you're not okay."

"Please, Pearl...Don't..." Csatari begged in a pleading voice.

Pearl turned her head towards Vilkas, and Csatari's heart sank to the bottom of the ocean.

"Do you know why Csatari's back looks like that?"

Vilkas immediately caught Pearl's gaze and realized that the question was directed towards him.

"She told me that she was whipped at the orphanage," he replied before striding towards them.

"That's correct. But, do you know exactly why she has so many whip marks?" Pearl asked.

"I suspect it's because she was bad and broke all the rules," he sneered.

Pearl met his stormy gaze. "You couldn't be more wrong."

The conviction in her words halted Vilkas for a moment before he recovered and finally crossed the courtyard to stand next to her.

"Pearl, he doesn't care to hear this story. Just drop it." Csatari tried to sound nonplussed, but even she could hear how frantic her voice sounded.

"No." Her eyes held rarely seen defiance. "Vilkas deserves to know who his wife truly is."

"I'll decide what I want to hear," Vilkas said in a sharp tone.

Csatari turned away, knowing that she couldn't stop what was about to transpire. She leaned against a pillar for support as she closed her eyes.

"When the kids of Honorhall turned four, in Grelod's eyes, you were able to work for your food. It was the most difficult for children who came into the orphanage when they were older, because they knew what it had been like to have a family and not live in those conditions. They were the most defiant. When we broke any rule, we were whipped as punishment. But, most of us just stole food, because we were hungry. We were a tight group, because all we had was each other. When we were very young, Grelod lost her temper with one of the children, and he died from her overzealous whipping. Csatari was so terrified to lose any of us that whenever any of the kids broke the rules, Csatari took the blame. That's why her back looks like that, because she took all of our punishments. She never broke any of the rules herself. She couldn't if she was going to survive everyone else's punishments. Even as a child, Csatari was a protector with a heart too big for her chest."

Csatari hung her held as the tears threatened to spill while memories long suppressed bubbled to the surface.

"But, she took in too much pain at too young of an age, and no one's helped her with that. She doesn't know how to ask for help, because she would never tell anyone that story. She's ashamed of it. But, she's been carrying around that burden all of her life, which is why she sometimes has an explosive temper."

"Why is she ashamed of that story?" Vilkas asked.

"Because she thinks of herself as a failure."

"Why?"

Csatari turned towards Vilkas to answer his question. "Because they all died."

Vilkas walked over to her, and her heart raced, when his hand rested on her hip. "How did they die?"

"We were all released at different times, depending on our ages. Once I was released, I searched for the others..." A lump formed in her throat that she swallowed down. "They didn't make it past their first winter."

"They couldn't have all died. You thought Pearl died, and she's alive. There must be others."

Csatari shook her head. "No, I looked, I..."

"You can't possibly have found them all. Others live. And even if they all died, you helped them die free."

"Why does that matter?" she grit through clenched teeth. "They'll never breath again, they'll never live."

"It matters a lot. You gave them a fighting chance which is more than most have ever given them."

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she lowered her head in shame. It wasn't enough. With his finger, Vilkas forced her chin back up to meet his gaze. "The hardest lesson for a warrior to learn is how to take a hit. We all must learn, but it wounds our pride and scars our bodies. You learned at too young of an age the hardest lesson about being a warrior." His thumb stroked across her cheek, wiping away the tears. "This war brewing with the dragons...many more will die, Dragonborn, you cannot save them all. But, if you live, you give us all a chance."

"I want to save them all," she whispered through her tears.

"You hold yourself to unrealistic expectations and then beat yourself up when you cannot achieve them. You must stop this. Let this pain go so that the past doesn't hold you back from what you need to become."

She smiled through her tears. "Holding myself to unrealistic expectations...that doesn't remind me of anyone else I know. You should also heed your own advice."

He frowned, and she felt the air shift. He was closing himself off to her again. This comfort would end soon.

Vilkas took a step away from her, but her side still tingled from where his hand had been.

"Thank you for telling me the story, Pearl. But, I already knew that Csatari had a selfless heart. It's why I fell in love with her."

He turned and walked back into Jorrvaskr without saying another word.

Pearl skipped over to her with sparkling eyes. "Well, that was definitely progress."

Csatari felt too emotionally drained to know how to respond. "I appreciate what you tried to do, but next time can it not be so emotionally devastating?"

Pearl sighed. "Csatari, if you want a man like him back, you won't win him over by batting your eyelashes and showing more cleavage. You must show him the dark parts that you won't show anyone else. He wants to be the one who knows you best in this world. That's what you must be prepared to give if you want him."

"But, he won't let me in," she replied.

"Then set the example for him to follow," Pearl replied. "Besides, it was the right thing to tell him. What he said to you, it seemed to affect you. He told you things that I wouldn't have known to say, because I'm not a warrior."

"Pearl, I don't know if I can do this..."

"You must." Pearl took her hands in hers as she stared into her eyes. "Promise me, Csatari, that you will open up and let him in."

"Why is this so important to you?" she whispered.

Pearl bit her bottom lip as her eyes filled with fear. "I'm afraid now that the Dragonborn lives, Csatari will cease to exist. And if that happens, Tamriel will become a very empty place, especially for those of us who need Csatari more than we will ever need the Dragonborn. And after today, I'm very certain that Vilkas is one of those people who needs Csatari more."

The battle within. How could Pearl possibly know about her inner struggle? Were the people that she loved the key to making sure Csatari always won the battle against her dragon self?

"Okay," she replied. "I promise you that I'll try."

Pearl squeezed her hands as she smiled. "It will work. He's still in love with you."

Damn it! Why did she seem to always miss these clues that everyone else picked up on?

"How do you know?" she asked.

Pearl's brow arched. "He threw a man across the courtyard for accidentally ripping your shirt."

"Yes, I know...And?"

Pearl laughed. "That doesn't seem like overkill to you?"

Csatari shrugged. "That's Vilkas."

"No. That's a jealous man. A jealous man in love."

Csatari rolled her eyes. "If you say so. I have to stay here until night fall. Why don't you go back home, and I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Okay." She kissed Csatari's cheek. "See ya then."

Pearl turned to leave as Farkas walked outside. "Hey, Csatari, heard training went bad fast." He threw his head back and laughed loudly. Farkas noticed Pearl standing there then and smiled at her. "Hello."

The smile she flashed back was as bright as the sun. "Hello." Pearl elbowed Csatari in the ribs. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Oh, right...Pearl, this is Vilkas' brother, Farkas. Farkas, this is Pearl."

Farkas held his hand out. "We thought you were dead. Glad to see that's not the case. Csatari told me great things about you. Glad to see you'll be around."

Pearl smiled widely. "I'm glad to be around too. Pardon me for saying so, but you don't seem to have your brother's...disposition."

Farkas laughed loudly. "Naa. We're kind of opposites. I don't let things bother me."

"Well, that's good to hear. It's nice to meet one of Csatari's friends. I hope to see you again." Pearl waved good-bye as she left.

"She seems nice," Farkas commented to Csatari.

"She's the best. Where's your brother? He said I couldn't leave until nightfall if I want to get my mirror back."

"He...he actually told me to come and help you."

Csatari blinked. "Wanna run that by me again?"

Farkas laughed. "I know. I thought the same thing when he said it. But, he said in training when you took off your armor, you were twice as fast without it. He wants me to teach you how to wear your armor better."

"He actually said that?" Csatari asked in disbelief.

Farkas held his hands up. "Swear on Talos."

Csatari bit her lip. "So, how are things between you two since...?"

Farkas let out a defeated sigh. "Vilkas is pushing everyone away. I'm hoping he doesn't push you too far away."

She nodded. "I love him, but I'm not willing to give up our friendship. I don't know what that means for him and me." She toed her foot against the ground. "You hurt me at breakfast when you wouldn't acknowledge me."

He frowned, his eyes filled with regret. "I'm sorry. I was trying to help you. If we talked, he would have exploded."

"Maybe it's time for Vilkas to get over his own insecurities."

"He's stubborn."

"I know." Csatari offered him a small smile.

Farkas closed the space between them in an instant, picking her up in a bear hug. "Glad to hear your not giving up our friendship. I don't wanna lose this."

Shock gave way to warmth. "Me either, Farkas."

And just like that, Csatari knew the distance between them was gone. She wished it could be this easy with Vilkas. But, she knew it wouldn't be. He would make her fight tooth and nail for it.

When he finally placed her down, he tapped her armor. "So, let's work on making your armor feel lighter."

000...00000

When the sky fell and the moons rose, Csatari's stomach grumbled. "I'm going to check in on Vilkas. See ya tomorrow."

He frowned. "It's weird...you not living here anymore."

She felt the same as him about the situation. It all felt off. "Alot of things feel weird right now. But, hopefully it'll pass soon."

Csatari patted him on the shoulder before walking towards the door.

"I know I can't keep you." She turned around, glancing at him quizzically. "I can't keep you, because he needs you."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I've seen him since that night in Rorikstead. He's lost without you. You light something inside him and now he's fumbling around in the dark."

"I'm going to figure out a way to fix this. I swear it." Csatari turned and walked back into Jorrvaskr, searching for the man who was fumbling around in the dark.

0000...00000

Csatari stopped outside of Vilkas' room. She found him sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. He looked so distraught and lonely. She couldn't fight against the feeling to comfort him as he had done for her outside. The only problem was that she didn't know how to. Killing things, she was good at. Saying the magic words to make someone feel better had always been beyond her.

Csatari glanced around the trashed room and gasped in shock. When had he done this? Today?

"So, I love what you've done to your room." He glanced up at the sound of her voice. "Decided it was time to redecorate?"

He glanced around the room, seeing what she was seeing and frowned.

She took a step, over the threshold and into his room, for the very first time.

"You okay?" she asked as she began to pick up books scattered across his floor.

She placed the stack of books back on the empty book shelf. When she had two rows of books back where they belonged, she glanced at him.

He refused to meet her gaze. "What are you doing here?"

"We made a deal. I would stay until nightfall to get the mirror back. I was working with Farkas outside, because he said that you told him to help me move faster in my armor."

He nodded curtly. "I did. You're too slow in your armor for someone with your speed."

"And you're okay with me working with Farkas now?" she asked.

"I told you that I would train you. What you do with him beyond that is no longer my concern."

The temper she had so carefully kept shoved down, boiled to the surface. "Bullshit!" she screamed. "I know it's bullshit and you know it's bullshit! And if you're going to keep up this lie, then tell me dear husband, why you just sent our friend through a wall for accidentally ripping my tunic?" He held her gaze with stormy eyes. After he refused to answer, she replied,"That's what I thought."

He glanced away, staring at the wall. "I had dreamed of training you for so long now. I was bitterly jealous of Farkas for always working with you, and now..." he shook his head.

"Reality rarely lives up to our expectations," she replied while crossing her arms.

"Today was the first day. It will go smoother from now on," he replied with conviction.

_He still wants to train me. Interesting._

She leaned back against the wall, taking the room in. "This is the first time I've ever been in here."

"I have dreamed of that as well. I would always listen to you in Farkas' room, spending time with him, while I stood on the outside listening."

"You have no one to blame for that but yourself," Csatari replied not feeling sorry for him.

He sighed wearily, and she instantly felt guilty for how callous her words came across.

"Well, you finally have me in your room. What did you dream that we'd do in here?"

He glanced up at her with wary eyes, and she immediately realized her mistake.

"Anything else that wasn't sexual?"

"I wanted you curled up in my lap as I read to you," he admitted.

The image filled her head of lying between Vilkas' legs in bed, resting her head on his naked chest as he read to her.

"That sounds...really nice,"she admitted.

He glanced up at her in surprise. Studying her face, he finally asked, "What is it that you want?"

Csatari ran her hand through her hair. "I wish I could go back in time to when you hooked your arm around me in Markarth and pulled me down into the bed. I wish I hadn't freaked out. You were so playful, so full of life then. I wish I could make that Vilkas come back. I wish I could make your walls come down, so you would let me in. I wish I could be your best friend, your lover, and your shield-sibling. I wish we weren't standing in a room together and an impenetrable wall stood between us. That's what I want."

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "If that's what you want, I shouldn't have found you in bed with my brother."

"How long are you going to hold that over my head? I didn't even know it was happening!" she shouted in aggravation.

"Then you should have tried to sleep with my brother."

Her head hung in shame. "I am guilty of that one. I...was scared. I realized that I had fallen in love with you and that terrified me. I found myself married to a man who I thought hated me. I thought this was some game to you- the mighty Vilkas had conquered the Harbinger. I didn't feel like anything you were doing was sincere. It felt like you were just trying to control me, not that you really loved me. It doesn't justify what I did, but I'm hoping you understand now."

His eyes narrowed to slits. "You felt like I wasn't being sincere?"

She heard the anger in his voice and knew he was about to explode, but she pressed on. "Yes. Because you never let me in."

His brows knitted together as he frowned at the floor.

Csatari knelt down before him. Placing her hands on his thighs, she met his confused gaze. "Is this truly beyond saving?"

"Yes."

She didn't believe him, because his eyes didn't hold conviction for his words. _Time to take a gamble._

"I see. Well, thank you for letting me know where we stand."

Csatari stood up and walked to the door. She took a deep breath, because this was one hell of a gamble, and she wasn't sure it wouldn't all blow up in her face spectacularly.

"Hey, Farkas," she called out before walking into his room. He glanced up from his bar stool, a tankard of mead in hand while arching a brow. "I'm crazy horny, and your brother says he doesn't give a damn what I do and that our marriage can't be saved. So, what do you say? A fun night of crazy sex?"

A hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

"What are you doing?" Vilkas roared.

She shrugged. "You told me there was no hope. I'm just trying to bury the pain for a little while."

"With him?" He snarled.

"You said it doesn't matter what I do, or who I do it with. So, why not him?" She made sure her voice sounded indifferent, but inside she was jumping for joy. His reaction was what she had been hoping for.

What she hadn't anticipated was for his look to turn murderous. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her back into his room. Slamming the door shut behind them, he growled, "Not him. Not now. Not ever."

She blinked innocently. "So, it's okay if I sleep with someone else, just not him?"

He growled, and if she didn't know better, she would swear the beast was still inside him.

Vilkas shoved her roughly against the door, her face smashed against the wood. He pressed his body against her, effectively trapping her.

"If you're so eager to spread your legs for any man, then spread them for me."

His words were cruel, but this was her intended goal. If she made herself vulnerable for him during sex, maybe he'd soften. Maybe he'd admit that they're far from over. Maybe he'd admit that he still loved her. But, she had to set him straight, because she couldn't bear hearing these words from him. Not now. Not ever.

"Vilkas, you're who I want to be with. You know I don't have casual sex. I...can't."

He starts to unbuckle her armor at the sides with near brutality to his movements. "And why can't the mighty Dragonborn have casual sex?"

She pushed with all of her might against the door, so that she could turn her head to look at him. "I know what I look like naked. I know my knees bend towards each other, and my back is hideous. I know I'm too skinny and not curvy like a woman should be. I know I look nothing like the women that used to come out of your room. That's why I've only had two lovers in my life. I can't disrobe in front of people and let them see that."

"Then why did you want to sleep with Farkas?"

"Because you told me that the night I became a werewolf he saw me naked."

"You were using my brother."

Catari thought long and hard about what answer to give. She had feelings for Farkas then, but she was married and would have never cheated. She made a move on Farkas to try and hurt Vilkas. But, what exactly was her point?

"Yes," She whispered. "Because I was hoping jealousy would make you realize that you couldn't stay closed off to me. I was trying to make you realize that I needed you to let me in."

"I see." He slid her chest piece off of her body and threw it to the ground with a loud clang. "Now I understand."

She turned towards him smiling. Did he really get it? Was it that simple?

"You had all of those fantasies about sleeping with me in your bedroom." She held her hands out. Well, here I am."  
>He smiled. "Yes, you are."<p>

Vilkas took off his armor and laid it across his dresser. He sat down on his bed, and after unclasping his loin cloth, began stroking his erection.

"Want to help me with this?" he asked with a husky voice.

Desire bloomed in her lower belly and she knelt before his spread legs.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

He grabbed the back of her head and tilting his hips upward, rammed his cock down her throat.

She coughed and started to gag around the width of erection, so he pulled back before thrusting forward again.

His tip slammed into the back of her throat and she coughed. She didn't know how to handle this. No man had ever done this to her before, so she didn't know what to do. She tried pulling her head back, but his hand held her head in place.

When he pulled back once more only to fill her mouth again, she slapped her palms hard against the top of his thighs.

He slid his erection out of her mouth, and she gasped for air.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I can't breathe," she gasped. "And you're going back too far; it's making me gag."

He grabbed her by the waist and flung her onto the bed. "Well, you definitely don't have skills pleasuring a man."

Csatari bit her lower lip. "No, I don't."

"That's too bad. Farkas loves talented cock suckers. He would have been disappointed with you."

His words pierced her through. This didn't feel right. Before she could speak her mind, Vilkas ripped her breaches and panties down, yanked her legs over her head, and plunged inside her. He didn't wait for her to adjust to his size, and she wasn't wet enough. She winced in pain as he moved inside her.

"Vilkas, stop!" she shouted after several thrusts.

When he thrust inside her again, she shouted louder, "I said stop!"

He stilled inside her, and she sighed in relief. Yanking down her legs, he glanced down at her. "Something the matter?" There was a coldness to his tone that chilled her to the bone.

"I'm not wet enough," she whimpered. "This hurts."

"I see." His fingers moved between her thighs rubbing her sex. But, it felt mechanical- no passion or love in his movements or in his eyes.

"Stop. Just stop." She sat up quickly to force him to stop touching her as she squeezed her knees together.

"What's wrong?" he asked in that callous tone that was making her stomach drop.

"I don't know what this is, but you're certainly not making love to me. Your heart's not in it."

"What's wrong? You don't like to be used?" Csatari's face scrunched in confusion. "You used my brother and me. We are not play toys in your games, Dragonborn. In Rorikstead, I know the Dragonborn song played. I know it's why you ran into the room and jumped into my lap. I know you only slept with me to escape the song. You. Used. Me."

Csatari sat up, pulling her breaches back up. "So, you were...what? Using me right now?"

"Yes. I don't want to sleep with you," he spit out. "You repulse me."

Csatari looked intoVilkas' hard eyes and her heart broke into pieces so small she knew that she would never be whole again. There was nothing left here to fight for. He didn't love her; he wanted to control and humiliate her. He had used sex as a weapon...against her.

"You are only half right about you," she said in a broken voice. "Yes, I jumped into your arms that night because at that moment being your wife was less frightening than accepting my destiny as the Dragonborn. But, the next morning, something had shifted inside me. Lying in your arms changed how I felt about being married to you. The way you touched me, the words you whispered in my ear, it made me question if I had been wrong about you being a monster, and I suddenly didn't feel doomed married to you. I began to fall in love with you that night, Vilkas." She met his cold gaze. "But, now I know that I had been right about you all along. You might have slain the beast inside you, but now all that's left is a monster. Good bye, Vilkas. Good luck in life, because gods know, you're going to need it. I'm done."

Csatari grabbed her armor off the floor and slid it over her head. She didn't care that it wasn't fastened, she just needed to get out of there.

She was leaving and never come back to him. There was nothing left for her other than shattered dreams and broken hearts.

They couldn't get past this. Too much damage had been done for too long. They were broken beyond repair.

Opening the door, Csatari stumbled out. Farkas' door opened, and his smile morphed into concern.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I can't..." she whispered. "Not ever again with him. I can't..." She broke into hysterical tears.

Farkas held his hands out for her, but she took a step back, waving him off.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go and talk."

Before she could say no, Farkas had her wrapped in his arms, and as she cried hysterically, he pulled her into his room.

Somehow through her hiccups and hysterics, she found herself on Farkas' bed, lying on his chest as he rubbed her back.

The tears seemed to have no end, and she feared that she would cry eternally.

Maramal's words then flitted through her mind: _When a soul is severed from its other half, it cannot function properly. You do not want to put yourself through such pain._

But, she hadn't listened to Maramal then. Only now could she the wisdom in his words.

"So, what happened?" Farkas asked in a comforting voice.

"He...he...used...sex...as...a...weapon," she cried out in between sobs. "He was punishing me, because he thought I used you and him. He's only partially right about you too. I kissed you in the river, because I wanted to, but also because I wanted Vilkas to realize we couldn't keep going on like we were. I'm so, so sorry, Farkas."

"it's alright," he replied instantly while rubbing her back.

Her tears stopped for a moment as she glanced up at him. "You forgive me just like that?"

"Sure." He smiled lazily at her. "You made a mistake and you apologized. I don't think you'll do it again."

She broke out into another round of hysterical tears, this time out of guilt, at how easily Farkas had forgiven her.

"Give Vilkas some time. He'll cool down and-"

"No. It's over. I can't take any more pain from him. We've caused each other too much pain. The damage is done, and I can't go back."

"We can't go back, but we can find a new beginning."

Csatari glanced up at the door, to find Vilkas standing there. The sheer pain and terror in his eyes shocked her.

"I finally saw it in your eyes. You meant what you said that we were done," Vilkas said as he walked into the room. "But the problem with that is... I can't live without you." His words were a painful whisper that broke whatever small pieces remained of her heart. Vilkas now stood at the edge of the bed, watching her as she cried. "Brother, I'm going to need your help healing her."

She felt, rather than saw, Farkas nod.

"What are you talking about?" Csatari asked in confusion.

Vilkas began taking off his armor, and she panicked.

"What are you doing?" she shouted.

Wearing only a tunic and breaches, Vilkas sat on the edge of the bed. He held his hand out to touch her,

but she slapped it away.

"Don't you dare touch me!" she shouted.

"Punch me if you want. I don't care. Nothing is worse than living with out you," Vilkas replied as his thumb brushed against her cheek. His soft touch brought on a new round of tears and when she met his eyes, she found him crying too.

Vilkas brought his forehead to hers as he whispered, "I know you love him. Please stay with me, and you can have him too. I'll do anything to keep you."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Her armor was now resting uncomfortably around her neck, so she sat back to buckle the straps, but Farkas beat her to it and slid her armor over her head and tossed it to the ground with a loud clang.

His large hands ran up her belly and cupped her breasts as he kissed down her neck.

"We'll both love you and share you," Farkas murmured against her skin.

Her eyes shot to Vilkas in confusion. "You can only sleep with Farkas while I'm around. If he decides to leave, you will still be married to me. But, we will both love and protect you. Please accept this. I can't lose you."

Her eyes rolled back as she softly moaned from Farkas' large calloused hands massaging her breasts.

"I won't leave," Farkas whispered into her ear before nipping her earlobe. "I'm happy sharing you with my brother as long as I can have some part of you."

She couldn't handle this. Her nerves were completely frayed. Farkas's hands slid down her body and dipped below her pants. Vilkas leaned in, and took one peaked nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirled and the heat and warmth was welcomed. As Farkas' fingers dipped between her folds, she gasped.

"Okay," she whispered as she fought to salvage the broken pieces of her heart. "I accept."

Vilkas didn't smile against her breast, nor did light shine through his eyes. All she saw was palpable relief. His fear must have been overwhelming for him to agree to this arrangement.

Csatari bucked her hips to the rhythm Farkas set with his fingers against her sex as Vilkas kissed across her breasts before slipping her other nipple into the welcomed warmth of his mouth.

She felt delirious with pleasure as both quickly worked her into a frenzy.

"I need..." she panted out. "I need this ache to go away."

A part of her feared that although they could soothe the ache away, the pain would never subside. It would be a part of her always, like her scars. She feared even the love of both men couldn't erase this pain Vilkas caused her.

Too many wounds had been inflicted on both sides. There was no way to erase the past, no way to turn back the hands of time to that morning in Markarth when she stepped inside their inn room. She couldn't go back to that moment when there was still light in his eyes and a playful smile on his lips. Now she was nothing more than a vessel filled with sadness and regret.

"Take her pants off," Vilkas said.

"Help me,:brother," Farkas replied.

Csatari placed her hands on the bed, lifting her body up, so that both men could slide her pants off.

Vilkas knelt at her feet as he took off her boots and pants. With her legs open, Farkas' hands returned to her sex, circling in a slow rhythm. Vilkas held her gaze,\ as he kissed her ankle. The intensity in his gaze held her prisoner as he kissed down the top of her foot, and slid her toe into his mouth. She gasped as the strange arousing sensation of his tongue sliding across her skin in a way that shouldn't feel so sexual. Yet it did, and she could hardly contain her arousal.

"PLEASE!" she begged.

"Is she ready, brother?" Vilkas asked in a husky voice.

Farkas dipped his fingers down and plunged one inside her. She gasped loudly as it stroked her core.

"She's soaked," Farkas answered huskily.

Vilkas knelt on the edge of the bed and before entering her, held her eyes in his gaze. "I'm sorry. I love you...more than my own life."

I love you too, Vilkas., she thought. The words never came out, because he tilted his hips and eased himself inside her.

Farkas cupped her breasts as he kissed down the back of her neck while Vilkas set a liesurely pace.

After several thrusts, he pulled out, and Csatari questioned him with her eyes. He picked her up, and she was suddenly in the air, being spun around. She landed with her thighs across Farkas' hips.

"Help him undress, love," Vilkas whispered in her ear.

With shaky hands, Csatari began to unstrap Farkas' armor. As soon as it was removed, Farkas leaned in to kiss her. His tongue drew lazy circles in her mouth as she pulled at his tunic. Finally pulling it off, and breaking their kiss, Csatari slid down the bed to pull down his breaches and boots as Vilkas fucked her slowly from behind with his finger. She moaned loudly, bucking her hips as she tried to concentrate on pulling off Farkas' boots. _How do you untie laces again?_

Her mind had been stripped of thought and she now ran on animal instinct.

Finally she pulled the last boot off and ripped off his pants. As she crawled on all fours back up to his hips, Vilkas moved with her, his fingers coaxing a loud moan out of her as they stroked her core.

"Ride him,"Vilkas instructed, so Csatari unclasped Farkas' loin cloth and wrapped her hands around the base of his erection.

Farkas gave her a nod and a smile, so she sank down, letting him fill her completely.

"That's a good girl," Vilkas murmured in her ear as his hands lovingly stroked down her spine.

With her hands planted on Farkas' massive chest, she moved up his erection until only his tip was still inside her before slamming back down.

He shouted loudly as his eyes rolled back into his head and her hands shook from sheer pleasure. Vilkas moved to her side, and his erection stood up proudly nearly her face. She leaned over and took him into her mouth as she pulled herself up again slowly. Vilkas caressed her hair as he slowly thrust his hips while Farkas fondled her breasts. She found a rhythm easily between riding Farkas and loving Vilkas with her mouth before he slid out of her mouth completely. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he sunk onto the bed behind her.

"Open up to me, love," he whispered in her ear.

"You're going to take me from behind?" she asked as she stilled on Farkas' length in fear.

"You loved it when we did it with Sam," he whispered in her ear, and the huskiness of his voice caused a shiver to run down her spine. "Lean forward," he instructed as he pressed her shoulders down.

Csatari lied down on Farkas' chest and his lips sought out hers.

Kissing him, she felt Vilkas' erection pressing against her backside and tensed up.

"No, love, you must relax or it'll hurt. Farkas, help her relax."

Farkas lifted his hips off the bed as he moved against Csatari and she moaned loudly as he filled her to the core.

Csatari gasped loudly as Vilkas entered her, and then suddenly froze in pain.  
>"It'll be alright, love, give it a moment," he said. His voice told her how he was fighting for control to move inside her, instead waiting for her pain to subside and that alone filled her with love.<p>

"I'm okay," she replied, so he slowly took her deeper.

It took a few strokes for Vilkas and Farkas to both find a rhythm that worked, but they fell into tandem movements, both moving inside her at the same thrust of their hips, and Csatari was sure she would explode from exctacy as the tip of both their erections hit against the deepest parts of her at the same time.

"Oh, Gods, I'm going to..." she panted out. The pleasure robbed her of strength and she fell backwards onto Vilkas' chest.

"You're doing well, love. I know you're enjoying it," his husky voice said as he kissed her temple.

"It feels too good," she panted out.

"I know, love, I know it's overwhelming, but I love being inside you. There's nothing else like it."

"Vilkas," she cried out , as her body shook, nearing climax. "I love you."

"You have me always," he replied as he pulled out before thrusting hard back inside her.

Farkas sped up the pace to match Vilkas' hard thrusts and a tidal wave overcame her.

"_Dovahkiin_..." a woman's voice called out.

"Who's that?" Csatari cried out. She was so close to climaxing that her body shook with its need for release.

"_Dovahkiin_..." The voice called again.

"Yes?" Csatari answered this time.

"_This is the way it could be, Dovahkiin. Both men love you; both men will continue to love you. They will share you and be faithful to you. Under their loving touch, your sexuality will blossom and flourish to new heights. Choose this path, and this is what you could have."_

Csatari felt a sense of power inside her by the sound of the woman's voice in her head. _I can have them both?_

"_No, Dovahkiin, this is not the right path_," a gentler woman's voice spoke. The sound of the second female voice made Csatari feel warm inside like being hugged by someone you love. "_Pride has brought about this __path of __pain and heartache. I accepted your vows. __If you o__pen your heart and let him in __none of this will come to pass__. Give him the love he needs, and he will love you with an intensity that rivals the sun. If you do, Hircine will never claim him. He will be yours eternally. Let the other go so that he may find another who will love him back equally. You know that you can never give him what he wants. Let him go._"

Csatari stared down at Farkas to find him gone.

_What just happened? Where did he go?_

She glanced backwards, shouting, "Vilkas?"

But, Vilkas was gone as well.

Panic set in, and as she tried to shout, the world was bathed in darkness.

0000...000000

"Get up!" a woman shouted, shoving Csatari roughly.

Csatari opened her eyes to see a woman glaring daggers at her while wearing priestess robes.

"Get up, you drunken blasphemer!" the woman shouted, glaring at Csatari.

Csatari glanced up at the woman in shock.

_How am I here again?_

A/N: Thank you to all the readers, reviewers, and followers. This chapter was very risky, (I always knew it would be) but I believe that's what writing is about- pushing the envelope.

So, now is your chance, dear readers, to cast your vote. I know how I want the story to end, but your opinion counts greatly!

Should Csatari listen to Dibella and have both men?

Or should Csatari listen to Mara and set a new path with Vilkas this time around? This is her chance at a 'do-over.'

If there was ever a chapter to write a review, this would be the one to do it!

To the wonderful reviewer Misty- I wish I could have PM you, lovely reader, but I can't since you signed in as guest. If you sign in and send me a PM, I will gladly respond to your thoughtful and insightful review.

Thank you to everyone for reading, reviewing, and enjoying the silliness that comes out of my brain.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: I am very, very excited to read your reviews from last chapter! Now I know that I can go forward with my original ending to this story and all will be good! I will also tell you this...Farkas will not be left out in the cold. I promise. Also, the story will continue on for several more chapters, because the story is not complete until a little after she faces Alduin. As far as the readers who asked for Vilkas/Csatari babies, I have a VERY EPIC epilogue in store for you that I love to itty bitty little pieces. Don't forget to please leave me a review to let me know if you're happy/pissed at me! I LOVE LOVE LOVE reading your comments!

On a side note, to you Dragon Age fans, the muse has been harassing me lately about scenes concerning Cullen and mage Trevalyan. I keep telling it to go away, but it won't stop. So AFTER this story is completed, you can likely expect some one shots on those two because that pairing is too delicious to resist!

Wake up and look me in the eyes again  
>I need to feel your hand upon my face<br>Words can be like knives  
>They can cut you open<br>And then the silence surrounds you  
>And haunts you<p>

I think I might've inhaled you  
>I can feel you behind my eyes<br>You've gotten into my bloodstream  
>I can feel you flowing in me<p>

~Stateless- Bloodstream

Csatari glanced up and blinked in shock. "What day is it?" she asked.

"The tenth of Heartfire," the priestess replied with a scrunched face. "What day do you think it is?"

Csatari stood up on shaky legs and felt the familiar aches and pulls in her body that she felt the first time around. The first time around? If it was the tenth of Heartfire, the last two weeks never happened. Or did they? What was it then? She thought about the voices in her head. Were they Aedra? Were they Daedra? Was it a vision of what could happen? Was that reality, and this was a dream? She wanted to puke her head spun so violently.

Csatari glanced down and found the golden band on her finger. So, she had married Vilkas.

"You owe me for the damages!" the priestess shouted. Her words bounced around in Csatari's hung over mind, causing her pain.

Holding her head, she groaned. "Please give me a minute. I need to think."

"About how wrong your actions were?" the woman screeched.

Csatari leaned against the large statue of Dibella for balance as her stomach churned. "I...think Dibella just gave me a very intense vision. I'm trying to go through it all."

The priestess scoffed. "Why would Dibella bother to show _you_ a vision?"

Csatari glanced up at the woman and sighed. "Because I am the Dragonborn."

Huh. It was the first time she had admitted that out loud. As she said the words, she didn't feel the same fear inside at the weight of her declaration. Instead, she felt acceptance. But, Csatari was always fearful of that title. Did that mean that it was a vision, and she now woke up with the knowledge of weeks passing by without actually experiencing them? Her head was older, wiser. But, her body was the same age.

The priestess' eyes widened in shock. "You're the Dragonborn?"

"Sent to save the world and all that good stuff. Yup. And I'm trying to understand all that Dibella showed me. So, please give me a break here."

The woman blinked. "Why don't you take a seat?"

Csatari needed answers. She couldn't talk to the voices. Maybe if she prayed, she'd be given answers.

"No...I need to pray to Dibella for her forgiveness," Csatari replied.

The priestess' eyes softened around the edges as she nodded.

On shaky legs, Csatari slowly dropped to the ground in front of Dibella's statue and closed her eyes.

_I don't know if you showed me that vision, or what it even was. I'm guessing it was you, because I woke up in your temple. All I wanted was to return to this day, and here I am. I'm sorry, but I cannot keep both men. Vilkas isn't a man who shares. All of his insecurity will come back, and he'll close off his heart to me. I can't live like that again. So please give me a silver tongue. Allow me to seduce him with my words, so that he never knows how I felt about his brother. Leave him enraptured by me. Help me, Dibella. I beg you. I will save the world, and you will continue to have worshipers. Just help me, so that my husband stays in love with me._

"By the gods," the woman gasped behind her.

Csatari felt a warmth flow through her body as strength returned to her limbs and the sickness from being hung over left her. The haze lifted from her mind as her mental sharpness returned, and her stomach stopped churning.

"You are Dibella's chosen one. You are the Dragonborn," the woman exclaimed. Csatari glanced back at the woman in confusion. "A light just shined down onto you as you prayed. I've never seen anything like it in all my years."

Csatari stood up on strong legs. "She took away my sickness, because she understands what I must do..." she snorted. "Probably better than I do."

"Go in peace, Dragonborn," the woman said.

Csatari nodded as she walked out of the temple and into the day light.

The moment she stepped outside into the stone city, she reached into her pocket, first for the handkerchief, then for the key she knew would be there.

Pulling it out, she glanced at the silver key and smiled.

Someone was waiting for her, and he wasn't a man known for his patience. She'd hate to keep him waiting any longer.

*****...

Csatari rushed into the inn, passed the owner, and ran towards the door. As she stood with the key in her hand, anxiety suddenly filled her. What if she opened the door and he wasn't there? Was this real or the last two weeks that happened...in her head?

No, he would be there. She knew it in her bones. Pushing the fear out of her mind, she placed the key in the lock and opened the door. She took a step inside and froze.

Vilkas lay on the bed with his eyes closed, and her eyes greedily drank in his beautiful naked body.

She had never really appreciated before just how beautiful he truly was. The first time around, she was too shocked to see him lying there to appreciate what was actually before- the most beautiful, complicated man she had ever met who set her soul on fire.

Tears of joy slid down her cheeks as she stood there, smiling at him.

Csatari didn't know how long she stood there staring at him, but Vilkas must have grown impatient, because he started snoring.

_What a liar! He doesn't snore! _She thought as she smiled.

"Oh my husband is sleeping," She whispered loudly as she tiptoed forward. "I'm sure he won't mind if I tickle him."

Csatari's heart pounded in her chest as she stepped closer to the bed. As soon as she neared the edge, Vilkas' arm hooked around her waist and flipped her onto the bed. Csatari giggled loudly as her back hit the quilt.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed as his ice blue eyes twinkled with excitement.

She reached out, cupping his face in her hands. "You got me good."

He nuzzled her breast before lying his head on her heart and draping his leg over her thigh. "I missed you, wife," he murmured.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and her voice broke as she replied, "I've missed you so, so much, Vilkas."

He chuckled softly. "You've only been gone a few hours."

Csatari ran her hand through his inky hair. "It just feels like you've been gone for weeks."

"Well, here you and I are, so there's no need to cry, love." Vilkas lifted his head as he wiped away her tears.

She grabbed his hand and pressed his palm to her lips. "Will you tell me something?"

"What do you want to know?" he asked as he lay back down on her breast.

"Will you tell me the story about how you fell for me?" she asked meekly."We haven't been friends since I joined the Companions. You have said some cruel things to me, or you completely avoided me."

He took his hand back from her and pushed himself off of her to sit on the edge of the bed. "I don't regret marrying you. I love you, and you are without a doubt the man for me." He glanced sideways at her with his eyes lit up. "But, I feel a little insecure...not knowing how you came to have feelings for me."

Vilkas dropped his head towards the ground. "You deserve to know."

Csatari held her hand out to him. "Please sit closer to me. I hate how you just placed distance between us."

"Once you know the truth, you may not want me to touch you," he replied softly.

"There is nothing you could say that would make me not want you close," she replied. "Trust me."

Vilkas sighed deeply. "Just...listen to the story first. If you still want me close after, then I'll touch you again."

Csatari sighed, but nodded. _You have to take baby steps with him._

Vilkas stared at the ground as he began to talk. "Do you remember when I asked you where you came from, and you told me about the mercenary band you had been apart of?" Csatari nodded and could feel Vilkas watching her through his curtain of hair. "Well, I went to check the group out. On the way back, Farkas and I ran into you coming out of the Falmer cave you were clearing out for your first job with us. You don't remember that, do you?" Csatari shook her head. "You had been poisoned by a Falmer blade. After accusing me of following you, you fainted in my arms. I made Lydia ride on the back of Farkas' horse, and I galloped back with you in my arms. All I could think was, 'Not her. Not now.' I took you to the priestess and she healed you, and I made her promise not to tell you that I was there. The next day when you went to Farkas for your payment, I sighed in relief when you asked to train with him. I watched you train for a month. I had never seen anyone push themselves beyond their physical and mental limits like you. You desperately wanted to be there with us, the Companions, and you were willing to do anything to prove that you belonged there. My respect grew for you as I watched you. Kodlak knew what was happening to me, but I didn't realize it yet." He shook his head and laughed.

"Then your friendship grew with my brother...and so did my jealousy. But, the night that I heard you in Kodlak's room, I...I listened at the doorway. I heard him offer you money for easing his pain with your healing magic. I heard you refuse to take his money. You had that sad sword; you needed a new shield, and your armor was falling apart. There were so many things that you could have bought for yourself with that money, but you refused to take it." He held Csatari's gaze as he admitted, "I fell in love with you that night."

Her breath caught in her throat as he she stared into Vilkas' intense gaze.

"Then you passed your test, and I felt such pride. But, I also felt ashamed. You see...I was supposed to come with you to test you. Kodlak refused me, because he said that my feelings for you would cloud my judgment. That's why you were sent with Farkas, and I was bitterly jealous. Then you became a wolf..."

Vilkas took a shuttering breath, and Csatari knew this is why he was afraid that she would reject him. She tried to be patient and remain silent through his story,. It was a deep struggle within as she wanted to scream at him that she loved him, and she knew about his beast spirit, and to stop being silly and rest his head on her body again, because he had been too far from her for far far too long.

"Aela ran to Farkas and me. She and Skjor couldn't control you. You kept changing back and forth between your human and wolf form. I held you naked in my arms, felt your body heat warm my skin, and..." He held his head in shame. "My body responded inappropriately."

Csatari blinkedwhen she caught on to his meaning. "Oooh! You mean you were turned on."

Vilkas nodded with guilt in his eyes. "Very much so."

Csatari bit her lower lip as she blushed. "I'm not mad at you for that."

Vilkas stared back at the ground, every muscle in his body tense. "The night you became a werewolf, it changed something inside me. My beast spirit became obsessed with this consuming need to mate with you. Kodlak had never heard of anything like this before. No one could help me or understood what I was going through. As the months went by, its obsession with claiming you grew. It didn't care if it...forced you or not." Vilkas' voice tapered off to a whisper. "The thought of hurting you sickened me to my core. So, I pushed you away, because I was afraid that if I fell more in love with you, I might weaken and give in to the beast's wants." He glanced over at Csatari with regret in his eyes. "Even though your my wife now, I still have this battle within every moment of every day."

"You thought that's why I would have pushed you away, isn't it?"

He ran his hand through his hair. "I just confessed that a part of me wanted to rape you. Of course I expected you to push me away," he snapped.

Csatari slid down the bed towards him and rubbed his shoulder. "What if I told you that it turned me on?"

His eyes shot up to her with a look of confusion and panic. "Vilkas," she said softly as she caressed his cheek. "This battle inside you is over. I am your wife, and my spirit and yours are mates. My body is yours whenever you want it. Stop fighting the beast. Give in, love. I'm yours."

His eyes grew hungry in a way that electrified her body. "I always want you. If I always give in, we'll never leave the bedroom."

She bit her lower lip. "Not a bad plan."

He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. "My behavior towards you was a mix of emotions. I was angry at you for causing such a reaction in me. I was jealous of your closeness with my brother and that you preferred his company over mine. I was frightened that I wasn't strong enough to fight the spirit and frustrated that nothing cured it. No matter how many women I slept with, the spirit was never satisfied."

Csatari gasped in shock. "That's why you slept with all of those women?"

"I hoped the beast would be satisfied with claiming another woman if it couldn't have you. At the very least, I hoped if my physical needs were satisfied it would keep me from growing weak." He met her gaze with shame in his eyes. "It didn't work. The beast wasn't satisfied, and I felt empty inside."

Csatari remembered in her vision, or whatever it was, when she had asked Vilkas in Riften if the sex had been enjoyable between them. He had replied that it had been satisfying. She finally understood his answer now. Vilkas had been satisfied after their physical intimacy, because he had been with the woman he wanted. The emptiness inside was finally filled after months of aching with affection and love.

"I understand," she whispered before she pressed her lips against his.

"Can we stop speaking about this now?" he asked. "I do not relishing reliving how much I screwed up with you."

Csatari held up her finger now adorned with her wedding band. "You didn't screw up that badly. I married you after all."

Vilkas swallowed roughly. "No one was more surprised than me when you agreed to marrying me. Can I ask when you...fell for me?"

Csatari didn't want to confess that she couldn't remember their wedding day or the days preceding or following it. She couldn't bear the insecurity that would cloud behind his eyes or the pain he'd try to hide. Maybe some secrets in a marriage were healthy.

She licked her lips to stall for more time.

"Unless you're not in love with me..."His voice broke at the end. He coughed, likely to clear a lump in his throat.

"No! I am!" she quickly replied. "But, expressing my feelings openly is something that I'm not good at. I need a lot of work on it, so please...be patient."

He nodded, and Csatari drifted back to to Rorikstead, the night she did fall for him.

"It was in your touch, the words you whispered to me. It way the way I felt in your arms. The way you listened to what I needed and gave it to me, not matter what it cost you do to so. But, most of all, it was the way you looked at me- like I was the only one you could see." Csatari was choked up by the emotions flooding her heart. "No man has ever looked at me the way you do. I've never felt so desired, so needed, so precious." She held his intense gaze. "Promise me you'll never stop looking at me like that."

Vilkas scooted closer to her, cupping her cheek. "Never." His voice taped off to a whisper. "I can't."

She leaned into his touch. "Good." She whispered as she smiled. "And that's how I fell for you. It wasn't one particular moment, but a series of small ones stacking up leading to one inevitable conclusion. I couldn't imagine a life without you in it. That's been hard for me to accept, that after being alone for so long , I needed someone so completely."

He nodded, and Csatari knew that he understood exactly what she meant. The two of them were powerful in their own right, as warriors and werewolves. They were also both proud. To realize that something was stronger than themselves, individually, was tough to swallow. Csatari had to surrender to the fact that love was far more powerful than she was.

She had done so before, but it seemed easier back then with Bulmond. Maybe it was because she had been hurt and knew how painful love could be when fate decided to rip it from your grasp. Or maybe it was because what she felt for Bulmond was a simple candle flame in comparison to the roaring fire she felt with Vilkas.

She was the Dragonborn, supposedly the most powerful being in Tamriel. She'd have to be to save the world. But, if love, an intangible thing, could bring her to her knees, then maybe she wasn't powerful. Maybe she didn't have what it took to save the world. Maybe she'd inevitably fail then. Maybe the world would end because of her.

He touched her cheek again as he looked into her eyes. "You're not weak because you fell in love."

Her eyes widened at his words. "Can you read my mind?" she asked with a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"No, but I went through the same struggle and confusion you seem to be going through months ago," he replied. "And I realized...that I am stronger in your arms." His thumb brushed over her lips. "You make me stronger. Make me want to be a better man." Too choked up to speak, she simply nodded. "At any rate, I'm happy just to hear that you love me at all."

He opened his mouth, then closed it quickly with a wary look in his eyes.

"Whatever you're afraid to say, just say it."

He refused to meet her eyes. "You and my brother are close. I suspected that you had feelings for him."

It was Csatari's turn to open her mouth, then shut it quickly. She couldn't tell him the truth, because when she slipped in Mara's temple about her feelings for Farkas, that was when Vilkas closed himself off to her. The truth would only hurt. She wasn't making the same mistake twice.

"Farkas is my friend, and now that we're married, he's my brother too. Farkas...is not the one for me."  
>His eyes tightened a fraction, and Csatari should have caught the meaning. But, she didn't.<p>

"Do not lie to me. I smelled your arousal around him."

Damn werewolf senses. Most of the time their abilities were incredibly useful. But, when she was trying to lie to her husband, she found them a complete pain in the arse.

Her body froze momentarily. "I didn't lie to you." She looked up and held his gaze. "I don't appreciate the accusation." His face showed no emotion, so she pressed on. "You may have felt my arousal, but you do not know the why. I confided a lot in your brother. Sometimes he asked me about Bulmond, my first lover, and when I spoke memories played out behind my eyes. Sometimes that's why I felt the arousal. Farkas always touched me like a friend- touching my hand, giving me a hug, or a pat on the back. My body responded, because I had forgotten just how long I had been deprived of touch from anyone other than someone wanting to kill me. I have been completely alone for years...even when I was in a room full of people. I had no one I considered a friend, no one to confide in. If it had been another male friend, my body would have likely responded the same. Don't hold this against me, Vilkas. I didn't know the real you yet. You hadn't shown me how beautiful your soul was."

Vilkas grabbed her waist, sliding her down the bed towards him. "I will be the only man touching you from on."

His voice came out husky, and his grip possessive. Wanting, needing... Her heart hammered in her chest like drums of war. The look in his eyes matched the aching need in her core.

"Only you," she whispered back. "I know it's in a warrior's nature to see a situation, draw a conclusion and react. It's what keeps us alive. But, I'm asking you to do the opposite with me. If you sense something different with me then you expected, don't jump to some conclusion and accuse me. Talk to me first, and let me explain. Your words carry a lot of weight with me, Vilkas, and you can cut me deeper than anyone else ever can."

Vilkas pressed forward, which made Csatari lie down on the bed.

"I will try to do as you asked." His lips curled up into a smile before pressing his lips to her ear. "I missed you while you were gone. Let me show you how much."

She cupped his face in her hands, his beautiful soul stealing face, and whispered back, "Show me all the ways you've missed me."

His lips pulled up into a smile and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "I missed that infuriating mouth of yours."

She laughed as he kissed both of her eye lids. "I missed the way your eyes light up when you're excited."

Her belly fluttered at his words as she exhaled a shaky breath.

He kissed across her cheeks and nose. "I missed your freckles too."

"Why my freckles?" she asked on a laugh.

He tucked back a strand of fallen hair from her face. "Because they're yours."

She didn't have a chance to response, because he grabbed her waist, yanking her body into the heat of his. "I missed touching you whenever I feel like it."

Csatari gasped as she felt his length pressing against her core; the flimsy fabric of her dress the only thing separating them. Feverishly, she starts yanking on the collar of her dress. She needs it off now. She needs him.

Vilkas swats her hands away and grabbing the collar rips the dress in two down the middle. She stares in shock at her now exposed body with her mouth hanging open.

He smirks at her, a devilish grin with mischief behind his eyes before his persistent lips leave a blazing trail down her body.

"I miss how you smell," he murmurs against her skin as his nose grazes across her belly and heats her core.

His trail of kisses leads downward, his tongue flicking out into her navel.

"That tickles!" she giggled.

He nipped at her skin and she hissed in shock. "I miss marking you." His voice was low, almost a growl.

She couldn't remember him ever marking her, though, which means he did it in the time that she still couldn't remember.

He continued his way down her belly, then gently parted her thighs. "I miss the way you taste."

The huskiness in his voice is unmistakable as he lowers his mouth to her sex, and while watching her, swiped his tongue up her sex.

Her body tensed in pleasure as lightning struck throughout her body. Her head fell back in surrender as her hands slid through his hair.

"Vilkas," she moaned out. "I missed everything about you too."

"Did you miss my tongue?" he asked against her skin, and his words vibrated through her body.

"Yes!" She cried out. "Don't stop!"

His lips lifted into a smile, and though she couldn't see it, she knew he was smiling by the sparkle in his eyes. He played with her then, alternating between intense licks and soft kisses on her body. Csatari squirmed in the bed with a death grip on his hair.

"Please, Vilkas, Please!"

Her body tensed as it bowed towards the sky. She flew up, up, up, higher than dragons soaring above the mountains.

Her thighs shook and her heart raced.

"Stop toying with me!" she panted out in frustration.

He chuckled against her skin and the vibrations sent her careening over the edge.

She fisted the sheets as her heels dug into the comforter as the world drifted away.

"I love the way you come for me,"she finally heard. "It's always so forceful, so intense."

Csatari blinked as she tried to find the voice. She found him still between her thighs. "Kind of like my personality."

He chuckled softly as he kissed her belly. "Yes, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

Smilling, she leaned down and ran her hand through his hair and his eyes closed at her touch.

_I want it to always be just like this between us._

Sudddenly, she remembered the last thing she confessed to him and knew that if she wanted to change their destiny, it needed to be one of the first things she told him.

"Vilkas, I want to tell you something. Something I've never told anyone else."

"What is it?" She could hear the wariness in his voice.

Csatari untangled herself from him and lied down on her belly, her head on the pillow.

"It's about my scars."

His face softened instantly at her words.

Vilkas straddled her waist, his hands ghosting over her back. "You told me you got them at the orphanage."

"Yes, but I never explained how."

She took a deep breath before she began. The beginning was always the hardest. But, one she forced the words out, the rest of her story tumbled from her lips like an avalanche. She wanted, no needed to tell someone the truth.

"I couldn't save them in the end," She whispered as tears tumbled down her cheeks.

"You did save them," he replied as he kissed a path across her scars. "You freed them. You gave them a chance."

The tears fell harder now as he continued on, telling her the same thing that he told her in the vision.

He massaged her shoulders as she wiped away the tears.

"I think your upper back now is my favorite body part on you now."

She laughed through her tears. "Why?"

"Because these scars remind me why I love you so much. They represent the very best parts of you."

She thought back to the story Vilkas told of when he fell in love with her and it made perfect sense. Csatari's nobler side, her sense of selfishness, was what Vilkas loved the most about her. The parts of her that made her a Companion.

"Vilkas..." Her voice was a plea.

He lifted her back side off the bed by pulling her up at the waist. Kneeling behind her, her body flashed with lightning when he dragged his finger down her dripping sex.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he slid inside her, and Csatari sighed in relief the moment their bodies connected. She rocked her body forward then slowly backwards, and he moaned loudly at the movement.

She glanced backward at him, over her shoulder, and when their eyes connected, she told him, "Let the beast out."

His eyes darkened instantly to a mossy green- a mix of his ice blue eyes and the yellow of his wolf side.

The grip on his waist turned painful as he withdrew from her only to rock forward forcefully.

She cried out in a delicious mix of pain and pleasure as he repeated the motion, demanding from her everything she could give.

His pace was frantic, no rhyme or reason to his movements, and she closed her eyes and listened to the spirit inside her that had become restless. She matched his movements on pure instinct. All thoughts flew from her mind as she focused solely on the way he was manhandling her.

His hands had started out painfully gripping her waist, but throughout the course of their lovemaking, had slid up the sides of her rib cage to her breasts. There was no finesse in the way he grabbed her breasts or pinched her nipples, or they way he stayed buried deep within as if the loss of conact between them was too much for him to bear, but she felt exalted in the pain. Sometimes a woman just needed to be claimed.

The lightning that coursed through her body finally sparked, wild fires raged uncontrollably throughout her body.

"Vilkas, I'm going to..."She cried out.

He grabbed her waist again and took her hard. The fires raged within her, turning everything they touched to ash. He grabbed her hair and forced her body back onto his as she hissed in pain.

"You're mine," he growled into her ear. "You come only for me." His voice darkened to a level she barely recognized. "Only for me."

"Please, I'm so close," she begged as she throbbed around his cock and her nipples ached.

He pushed her back down onto the bed, and she couldn't stop her fall as she slammed into the pillows. He grabbed her hips and slammed inside her as she cried out. Flying, flying so high into the clouds as a bright white light blinded her.

She screamed as her body exploded, and Vilkas' teeth sunk into her neck as he moaned loudly following her over the edge of the cliff.

She floated back down to Tamriel in a fit of giggles, using all of her strength to hold her and Vilkas up as his body was draped over hers. When she was about to collapse, he grabbed her by the waist and fell sideways onto the bed. Still inside her, he pulled her into his contours of his body.

"Did this help quiet the beast?" she asked, cutting through the silence.

"Yes. He is quieter...for now," he replied.

"Then this is what we'll have to do from now on," she replied. "I don't want you to feel like you're ripping apart at the seams. It must be exhausting to always be at war within."

"You have no idea," he replied in a voice that sounded old and tired. "I was afraid I hurt you, though."

Csatari laughed. "I'm not some helpless damsel. I can take a pounding and be just fine."

He nuzzled into her neck. "I don't need a reminder about how strong my woman is."

The words lit a flame in her as she smiled widely. There was something deeply satisfying in hearing him call her 'my woman'.

"By the way, thank you."

"For what?" she asked.

"For marrying me. I know I didn't deserve you by the way I acted, but thank you for choosing me. Knowing that I can wake up next to you every day, join you in your adventures, and go to sleep with you tucked beneath me, I...don't have words for how that makes me feel."

Tears pricked at her eyes. "It makes you feel so excited you think your heart might explode."

"Yeah," he said softly as he brushed back her hair and kissed her shoulder. "That's exactly how I feel."

"Me too," she whispered back as her head sunk into the pillow.

He threw his leg over hers pinning her to the bed as his arm wrapped around her, holding her tightly to his chest.

His breaths became steady and slow and Csatari knew when he had fallen asleep.

With a little maneuvering, she was able to slide out of his hold and tucked her knees under her chin as she watched him sleep soundly. She tucked back a piece of fallen hair out of his face, so it wouldn't tickle him. He was beautiful, lying there sleeping, so heart breakingly beautiful. She smiled at his sleeping body as her mind wondered back to the last two weeks...or the dream...or the vision. What was it? Was that reality, and this was now becoming a dream? Or was that fake and this moment was real? No, that had to have been the dream, she thought. This must be real.

A question ran through her mind, and paralyzed her with fear. What if whoever had spoken to her in that vision took her memories?

She wouldn't be able to remember why she loved Vilkas. She'd make the same mistakes again.

No! her mind shouted. They can't have my memories!

Those two weeks might not have actually happened, but in her mind, they had happened. It was because of those weeks that she loved Vilkas the way she did. If they take them from her, he'd be a stranger again.

She sat up quickly and grabbed the first pair of clothing she'd find. She chuckled to herself when she realized that it was Vilkas' pants and undershirt. Having to hold the pants up because of their size, she raced out of the room.

"Hello," she said to the inn keeper, knowing that she looked beyond ridiculous holding her pants up. "Do you by any chance have supplies that I could purchase?"

Before he opened his mouth to insult her, his wife breezed over to her. "What do you need, dear?" she asked sweetly.

"I was hoping you'd have several sheets of parchment and..."

And what? She asked herself. A quill? She could barely write. Even worse, someone else could read her notes likely faster than she could. No one else could read these clues that she would leave herself. No, she would have to do this the way she had always done it when she wanted to remember something.

"And charcoal, please."

The woman held her finger up and disappeared behind the counter. A few moments later, her head popped up with paper and charcoal in hand. "Looks like you're in luck!" The woman exlaimed as she beamed.

Csatari let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you." Realizing she hadn't brought coin with her, she asked, "Can you put those on my tab? I can pay it later."

The woman pushed the items across the counter. "No problem, hon."

"Thanks."

It took some maneuvering on her part to grab the sheets and charcoal without her pants falling down, but with items in one hand, she ran back to her room without mooning anyone.

Inside the room, Csatari sat down on a lone chair in the corner of the room.

After Bulmond died, Csatari had panicked when she began to forget him. She couldn't remember the way it felt when he kissed her, the lightning that coursed through her body, or the way his eyes held such adoration when he looked at her. She even began to forget the contours of his face, the ones she had spent countless hours tracing with her fingertips.

So, when she had some extra money, she had purchased a leather bound journal and charcoal and drew him over and over and over again. Each picture held a clue to remind her of how special he was, how much he had changed her life. He had carved her into the warrior that she was. She never wanted to forget. He was real, what they had was real, what she felt was real.

She would leave herself the same clues again in her pictures of Vilkas.

As she drank in the sight of his naked torso splayed out across the bed, she pressed charcoal to parchment.

Several pictures later, Vilkas stirred on the bed.

"What are you doing?" he asked in his sleepy voice as he blinked.

She glanced up from her picture and smiled at him. "Drawing. I couldn't sleep."

"Is everything alright?" he asked nervously.

"Everything is fine," she reassured him. "But, I slept in the temple. So, I didn't need sleep now."

He chuckled as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.

"Can I see what you're drawing?" he asked as he walked over to her.

"No!" she exclaimed as she hid the pictures from his view. "They're not done yet."

"I can't even see one?" he asked as he pouted.

By the gods, that pout was powerful. It rendered her nearly powerless against him. Her mind quickly scrambled to think of a solution. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that picture of Vilkas standing in Ysgrammor's tomb, holding a witch head above the flame with a huge X drawn through the picture meant that Csatari wanted him to remain a werewolf. And if she showed him the pictures of Farkas...There'd be too much explaining to do.

_Ah. But this one..._

"Here you go," she said as she held up one of the pictures. "Remember it's not done yet."

Vilkas took the picture from her and the moment his eyes met the parchment, his body froze.

She puzzled at his reaction. _But, I thought he'd love the picture._

He stared for an eternity and a half while she wrung her hands nervously. When she could no longer stand the silence, she finally said, "I didn't mean to upset you by that drawing."

His eyes shot up to hers. "I love it," he whispered, his voice breaking on each syllable.

Her brows shot up to her hairline. "You do?"

He nodded. "May I have it?"

She exhaled a breath she didn't know she held as she walked over to him.

"May I ask why you've reacted so strangely to this drawing?" she asked.

Vilkas' brows knitted together as he frowned. "I..I don't know how to put it in words," he finally said.

His answer shocked her, and she wondered if he had figured out all the clues for herself that she had drawn into the picture.

Csatari glanced at it, trying to see it objectively.

The picture was of Vilkas and her, drawn from the hip up. Both were naked in profile. One hand was wrapped around Csatari's back in a comforting embrace. The other was on her hip. Csatari was tucked beneath his chin, her breasts pressed against his chest.

The position of his hands were to remind her of Vilkas' dual nature: one side he was possessive, which she very much liked. On the other side, he was capable of comforting her. They were naked, because it was another clue, that she had to take her armor off around him; she had to be open and honest. She was curled into his chest as a reminder that if she sought comfort from him, she would find it. Though she was tucked beneath her chin, he was still looking downward. It was another clue to remind her of his intensity, that for all his faults, he made her a priority. Csatari's facial expression was a clue to remind her what the moment felt like, encouragement that if she let Vilkas in, she would be happy.

"Can you please try to find the words to explain?" she asked.

His hand wrapped around her back, rubbing in soothing circles. "Do you remember what I asked you at our wedding?"

She froze momentarily. "We said and asked a lot of things. I was super excited and nervous. Most of the day is a blur in my mind. You have to be more specific."

"The particular moment I'm referring to is when you walked down the aisle wearing that dress." He glanced back at the tattered yellow dress lying on the bed. "I told you that I had purchased you armor, so if you wanted to wear that marrying me, I would go get it. But, you told me that you wanted to marry me in that dress, because you didn't want to wear your armor around. 'No secrets between us. No hiding. No armor,' you whispered. That's why I took my chest piece off and married you in my pants and tunic." Vilkas glanced down at the picture. "This drawing reminds me of that moment."

_Ah, so has figured out some of my hidden messages._

"If it makes you happy, you can have it," she said. "It can be one of your wedding gifts."

His eyes shot to hers. "Wedding gift." She then saw the panic behind his eyes. _I haven't gotten you anything yet._

She smiled at him. "Relax. You can buy me a hand mirror. I'll love it."

His brow arched at her words and, she couldn't help but laugh.

"Are you rested now?"she asked. He nodded."Good. Let's grab something to eat and get going. I have an adventure for us involving a mage and a staff."

She needed to find Sam. She needed answers about who he really was. He was a simple mage like she was only a woman with a sword.


End file.
